Workshop Swan(ie)Song

The old man has finally taken the momentous decision – after much kicking for touch, procrastination and setting obstacles in the way – to sell their house in Pietermaritzburg, home for the last (?) fourteen years, and – a way harder decision – to sell his whole workshop;

Woodworking machines, stacks of wood, hand power tools, hand tools, nut screws and bolts, hinges, upholstery material; all the stuff he has accumulated over 120 years. Everything has to go. Well, almost everything. There’s a fair amount of ‘I’ll keep this’ and then ‘but where will I put it?’ OK, so he’s only 96, so its about sixty years worth of stuff.

The painful process is not without trepidation, hesitation and doubt, but he’s committed now: it’s going.

Luckily he has found a WONDERFUL person, ‘SUCH a nice chap’ to buy the whole workshop from him, lock, stock and barrel. ‘He has taken six bakkie and trailer loads away already and I reckon there’s about another four to go’ says the ole man.

Has he paid you? I ask. ‘What?’ Has he paid you? ‘Huh? Oh! No, not yet, but he will.’ OK, I say, but it’s perfectly reasonable to ask him to pay. Rather he pay now and avoid a drama afterwards. ‘Mm.’

So Sunday I go and observe the process. I thought I’d meet the wonderful Johan de Lange, who has been most helpful to the ole man, but he didn’t arrive.

– 16 Ivy Rd Workshop collage Dad –

Already it’s half empty. You can now see it has a floor and some walls. I take pictures and ask What’s this? ‘Ah!’ He says, immediately animated, ‘that’s Indian waterbuffalo calf skin, tanned and dyed. I want to cover a chair seat with that.’

What’s this? ‘Ah! That was Oupa’s whetstone. That could be a hundred years old.’

‘Ah! That’s a Stanley spokeshave. They used them to make the spokes in the oxwagon wheels. I used it to make the speedboat I built. Remember I made a boat in the lounge on the plot? It’s also called a draw knife.’

‘Ah! That sketch? We went to Skukuza in Kruger and I saw a lovely bench there and wanted to make one, so I drew a sketch of it.’

‘These are wood turning chisels I made. I used special steel for the blades and turned the handles of olive wood.’

– self-made turning chisels – lovely olive wood –

Where’d you get this old handsaw – a back saw – and the set square with brass inlay? ‘Old Mr Buckle had a Blacksmith shop in Harrismith down in McKechnie street before the war. I used to hang out there – remember I had horses when I first got to Harrismith? I used to shoe my horses there and he sold or gave me stuff he didn’t need.’ That was Before The War – so its eighty years of stuff, not sixty.

The fixed machinery is two thicknesser-and-planes, a Rockwell circular saw, a huge cast-iron bandsaw, a belt-sander (seen in the collage above), a 1m wood lathe with tilt and something. Each one has a story and why it’s a wonderful tool, its name and where it’s from.

I said I didn’t recognise the make of the one thicknesser. ‘Ooh, that’s from Austria. Its a good make, but not well designed; it’s tricky to set the blades. I rebuilt it and made some improvements.’ In fact he was so chuffed with those improvements he encased the moving parts in perspex so you can see them. It would have been sad to hide them under a metal cover:

– the Emco-Rex b20 thicknesser aus Austria –
– and these? Ah, those are my clamps. You can’t have too many clamps. Those are sash clamps –
– I’ve got 4ft, 3ft and 2ft sash clamps. Then I’ve got G-clamps and spring clamps –

And on and on. We didn’t get much done. I’ll have to write another post on it.

~~~~oo0oo~~~~

Comments flowed:

Steve Reed: Great pic of your old man in his workshop.
That hat is very swish.
Looks like you looked when you were younger.

Terry Brauer: Hoo boy, do I relate to this. Read it to (her Dad) Sid who kept nodding knowledgeably as we sat awaiting my mom’s checkup at her doctor.

Of course he saw No Parallels to the recalcitrant person not willing to shed stuff 😅🤣 – I fear for myself when it all comes toppling as it will of course. Your Dad looks strong as an ox. Agree with Reed re rather striking similarity . .

Me: Ha! Rubbish. I didn’t wear a hat back then . . .

Jon Taylor: He has very leathery hands – also covered in Indian Waterbuffalo skin? Must be difficult to say goodbye to his beloved tools. He probably loved them more than his family?

African Greybeard

I’m coming down to Durban to buy a parrot. Where’s Overport? asks the ole man.

Then the ole lady phones, all worried – as ever. Can you tell us how to get to West Road in Overport, Koosie? I say I’ll try, phone you back. I need to hatch a plot. I phone back and say Come to my place for lunch, I’ll leave work early and I’ll take you, it’s not easy to find. She sounds dubious but she’ll try that.

She phones back, amazed. He saw sense. We’re coming for lunch, she says, relieved. She can’t see, he can’t hear, so she was dreading looking for a small parrot in a strange haystack.

When I get home they’re on my stoep and Jess has given them tea and Tommy is busy cooking lunch for everybody – pasta carbonara. My children! Bless them! I had told them I’d love it if you’d give them a polite hello, but you needn’t stay, just make your excuses and go. They decided to completely exceed all expectations and charm the old bullets. Proud of ’em!

Off we go to meet Sumie who has three baby African Grey parrots in a box. His grandfather breeds them in Utrecht. Dad had said he wanted to choose his own. We check them out on the tailgate of my bakkie in West Road Overport. Dad picks one and now I think, Here comes the bargaining. R2500 says Sumie. No way says the ole man and shuffles off to the front seat of my bakkie. He comes back slowly with the bird magazine in his hand, stabbing his finger at Sumie’s ad: R2300, moaning Now I have wasted my time coming all the way from Pietermaritzburg. Sumie says to me I thought I wrote R2500! To Dad: Fine, Uncle Pieter, R2300 says Sumie.

And the food for free, says the ole man. That cost me R100, Uncle Pieter, I’ve just fed them, so give me R80, says Sumie. It’s my birthday on Friday (true), counters the ole man, You should give it to me as a gift. How old you’ll be? asks Sumie. Ninety Five says the ole man (true) so they settle on R50.

Now they debate who’s box is better. Sumie has a shoebox – it’s wider. Ole man has a box some electronics came in – it’s deeper. Ole man realises if he takes Sumie’s box he gets both, so he settles on Sumie’s shoebox.

We go back home to eat Tom’s delicious pasta lunch, followed by ice cream and coffee, and off they go back to Maritzburg. The ole man changes into second too soon up the steep hill. He would have hated it that I heard that.

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And I didn’t take a single photo! Damn! Well, here they are with great-grandkids:

Gogo Mary & Great_Grandkids (2)

And I just thought: When last did I post a recent pic of my favourite children? Here they are willingly posing for me: