When I was a little girl, my Grandfather Spratlin would always let me build things in his shop. It was my favorite thing to do when I was at his house.
I would find tons of splinters in my fingers at the end of the day and those were definitely the days there was NO getting out of baths no matter how hard I begged and pleaded.
When I would arrive at his house - especially if it was a pretty day outside I would run out to his shop and get to work. He never turned me away. He encouraged me to do whatever I wanted. He would help me get started and then go back to his work.
While he worked on a car or was tinkering with a lawn mower I would build go-carts, shelves, whatever I could think of out of whatever he had around. He was happiest when we were together outside and he consistently found ways to keep me entertained and make it fun. If I ran into something I couldn't figure out he would stop what he was doing and come help me. Then, he would get back to work. I spent a big portion of my childhood out at his shop just playing with whatever he had laying about.
When I think back on the memories of building funny contraptions out of whatever scrap wood I could find I think about how lucky I was to be able to do these things and how they have carried over into my adult life. I also think about how distracted we are by our world of information and how little time we spend just exploring our natural capabilities and our imaginations.
These days, I often leave projects requiring building to Jason. He enjoys it and I have learned we are better off not building things together because we end up fussing at one another. He has his idea and vision of how to execute it and I have mine. We approach projects very differently. This inevitably leads to us trying to have the other "see" what we are thinking which in turns frustrates both of us. Now, I just let it go and let him do it and find other ways to satisfy my need to build things. (Maybe this is another reason I love quilting so much - figuring out how to put the pieces together.)
About a month ago I talked with Jason's grandfather about building a shelf for my thread. I was pretty excited about the prospects of that happening because he is a wonderful wood worker. He's having some physical struggles with his knees and back and it is looking like it could be a while before he is able to get to it.
After quite a bit of dreaming about how great it would be to have a shelf to set my thread on and after A LOT of frustration about the current state of my thread; I have decided to build myself a shelf.
Jason offered to do it for me, but I want to do it myself.
I love running power tools and I miss using them. When we put in our bamboo floors I did a lot of the work myself. I miss figuring things like this out. (I know, what kind of crazy person enjoys putting in flooring? A person who doesn't have to do it for a living, that's who.) There is such reward in looking at a finished project and knowing I did it.
On Sunday, Jason went and picked me up two pieces of 1X6 pine and some screws. If the weather permits tomorrow, I plan on busting out the power tools and building a shelf to sit behind my ironing board to house all my spools of thread. I will be thinking of my Grandpa Spratlin while doing it.
My plan is to build cubby holes for the different colors like a curio shelf, but we will see how it all comes together. I will take pictures I promise!
Wish me luck!