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 Jummywood tree.
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 back 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 the kid was hungry but because he had just killed off his last grog and was going 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 here and tend to the shop while I go get some more grog - er I mean groceries and I'll 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 had taken all the pine boards off the back of the shop and built some of the finest 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 his 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," he exclaimed. From here on out, you will be my indentured servant. Now
*no one* is to know that you build this fine furniture for me - I'll always put me leather patch on it I will." But if anyone asks - you never touch the jarrah- 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 is a Santa Claus, Easter Bunny, and E.T. It ain't as expensive as walnut or ipe, 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!