I looked differently at an heirloom sent to me from the Land of Down
Under almost a decade ago. The Aussie leather patch on the front was
long gone from moving. The memories of not only its maker but of a
world known as "The Wreckers" came back to mind. WIth fondness I sent
an email to the jarrah basher himself. Moved to a bigger and fancier
place he did. Why - I wouldn't be surprised if he drinks his grog
from a silver chalice no doubt! LOL!
I've lost a couple of good friends that I made on the rec along the
way as well. Tom Rush, who lived in the same town as I did back in
Texas and met through the rec. The man who helped me move out here to
Las Vegas, Harvey Klene also passed away this year too. They both
loved the smell of sawdust and were extreme craftsmen. In their
honor, and to my Top Bloke who started all this - I bring you the
original story of the jummywood tree.
Sit back boys and girls, and let me tell you the story of the
Long ago, in a small town in Oz lived a man who we'll call Phully.
Now Phully was a talented and gifted wood basher who could pop out an
entertainment center, two end tables, a bookcase, and two wine racks
before lunch. After noon, when he finished his 9th Fosters, he went
into the shop and there before him stood a poor Aussie waif.
"Pardon me sir, but I'm hungry. Could I have the crumbs from your
mullet sandwich - please sir?" Phully was all choked up ~ not because
kid was hungry but because he had just killed off his last grog and
to miss his 2:00 "coffee break" if he didn't go to market and pick up
another 6 cases. "I tells you what you farkin little elf - you stay
tend to the shop while I go get some more grog - er I mean groceries
be right back."
Along the way Phully spied some old mates at the pub down the street
and wandered back to the shop after dark. The poor emaciated waif
taken all the pine boards off the back of the shop and built some of
furniture Phully had ever seen. It had a touch of old country flavor
to it and in his awe and amazement, he awakened the lad and bought him
own loaf of bread.
"This is the finest 'kin work in the land. Reminds me of the talents
of my top bloke in the states, it does - Jummy Mc Namara in Texas,"
exclaimed. From here on out, you will be my indentured servant. Now
to know that you build this fine furniture for me - I'll always put
leather patch on it I will." But if anyone asks - you never touch the
- only the pine."
"Peen?" the young lad replied.
"No - I said pine" in his usual Aussie drawl.
"Pain?" the youth queried again.
"For the love of God son, call it Jummywood!"
So for those of you non-believers who don't believe there is such a
thing as a Jummywood tree, let me assure you there is. Just as there
Santa Claus, Easter Bunny, and E.T. It ain't as expensive as walnut
but I mean after all - wood don't grown on trees!
So there you have it - the birth of Jummywood.
Now close your eyes, think good thoughts, and go to sleep.
Good night boys and girls.
Jummy v (aka Minwax Mac) ;-) Happy and alive in Las Vegas!