I believe you're right.
Uncle Teet was here from Gurdon, Arkansas a couple of weeks back. He's right
about 80 (an age that doesn't seem all that out of reach anymore), was a
woodworker his entire life (apparently out of necessity for part of it), and
often waves that badge of an old time woodworker, the stub of a ring finger,
to punctuate a remark. Although he can only move about enough to make bird
houses and turkey calls these days, he makes them "by the dozens", to hear
Aunt Marianne tell it.
Uncle Teet's lived in rural Arkansas his entire life - outside a town most
folks pass though without ever realizing they've been there - and you could
tell he couldn't quite figure out what to make of Houston, although he
blamed his anxiety (out of country politeness, I am certain) on "passing
that big kidney stone last week". After all, he'd only made the trip to
these parts to see, almost certainly for the last time, a dying half-sister
he hadn't seen in 30 years over in San Antone, and Houston was a necessary
evil of a stopover on the way back. Everyone said you'd never get him to
stay past the next day.
That first evening SWMBO showed him through the house, pointed out my
furniture and stuff, as she's wont to do, and Uncle Teet kept his counsel
and didn't' say much, until I offered to take him out to the shop the next
morning. Shucks ... a stick of dynamite couldn't of moved him out of there
for the next two days. When he wasn't sitting on a stool in the shop knee
deep in sawdust, he was looking out the kitchen window to see if that was
where I was ... like a kid looking out the window to see if his neighborhood
pal was let out of the house for the day. I think he was disappointed the
second morning when I wasn't out there at 5 AM sharp.
Thinking back on his visit, I can't remember when I've enjoyed anything as
much as having Uncle Teet sitting in my shop. He didn't talk a lot, mostly
just sat and watched, but he had a look of approval in his eye that was, as
they say on the commercials, priceless. When he left to go back home, two
days later (reluctantly, I do believe), he was carrying a chunk of my
cocobolo that was about the right size for a couple of "turkey call
experiments", and he promised me a truckload of white oak, if he had to
bring it down here himself.
You gotta understand that, until this visit, Uncle Teet was not blood kin
Hot Damn! That was a good one, Swing.
Hope you get that load of White - but you know as well as I do - it
don't really matter if you don't - the good stuff was already there.
Thomas J. Watson-Cabinetmaker (ret)
Real Email is: tjwatson1ATcomcastDOTnet
email@example.com (Charlie Self) wrote in
Sunday evening, I'm whipped & tired, from a long weekend of everything,
plus a little. I'm sitting in the most comfortable chair in the house,
falling asleep to Norm on the Tivo, about 8:30. My wife is at her sister's
place, playing Scrabble, when the telephone rings. I almost didn't answer
it, but it's Stanley.
Stanley's a little like Uncle Teet. Well out of warranty, if you know what
I mean. He just wants to drop by for a couple of minutes - he's got
something for me. By the time we get done visiting, he's brought me a
piece of mahogany veneer, hand cut, and a box of brass knobs he won't ever
have a use for, but mostly he's cheered me up, and nudged me forward, and
helped me realize how much I've learned in the last couple of years.
We all need Stanley's in our life.
Your car rust's out...
After a fishing trip, people say "You caught a what? [Marlin, Yellowtail,
After a morning of snow boarding, people don't say, "Let's go surfing or
ride go our dirt bikes"
When your dog runs off, you can still see him after three days.
When the tallest thing in the state is a hill 2000 +/- ft and the locals
call it Mount so and so.
When the locals call a 20 minute backup the worst traffic they have seen in
When the locals say "Head for the cellar! - A twister is approaching!"
When the locals refer to hail in sizes larger than a pea, hail nets, ect.
When the woodworker has his shop in the cellar, basement or talks about how
best to heat it.
When the weatherman says 90% humity and 90 today and the rest of the week.
And the list just keeps getting longer...
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