How Small is Your Shop?
- Thread starter Ned
- Start date
Dave Ronyak said:
I actually have written a several series of stories for family and very close friends. It is fun. All of the tales I have written here have been originals that had not been in any of the other series. It is all you guys faults as you keep giving me ideas.
I guess we can say this series has been for another group of very great friends.
When i was a senior in HS, my English teacher tried to encourage me to be a writer. She liked the way I wrote and told me i should work on it. I insisted I was actually too lazy to be a writer. i needed hard work where i had more action. Two years after i was out of HS, a good friend asked me to write a story for him to hand in for English class. at first, i said "No way." He was persistant so i finally wrote it for him. A few days later, I asked how he made out with "his" story. It seems Ms M. recognized immediately and gave him a failing mark. When he asked why, she told him to look at the back of the page he had handed in.
In very large script, she had written: "Next time, have somebody other than Wayne Tinker write your story" Now, I ask, was the flunk for the story or the lack of originality?
8)
Tinker
GAKnothead
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- Oct 8, 2007
- Messages
- 39
Funny how the more systainers I bring home, the more other stuff I can move out to adjacent storage space, and the less small my shop seems to be.
[size=11pt]Festool's Corollary - Workshop size increases proportionally to the quantity of systainers found within.[/size]
[size=11pt]Festool's Corollary - Workshop size increases proportionally to the quantity of systainers found within.[/size]
bluehaze013
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- Oct 4, 2007
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- 18
Be lucky to have a shop at all, I have to do all my woodworking in my bedroom! Hence the need for festool, sawdust under the sheets makes for a very uncomfortable sleeping experience. Before Festool I never thought woodworking would be possible at all given my circumstances but after having experienced "the system" I would gladly pay double the price for any of the tools they offer as woodworking for me would not even be possible without them!
Festool's Ancillary Corollary- Workshop size will increase proportionally to the quantity of systainers found within, until such time as shop occupant perceives accumulation of free corners, then additional systainers are purchased to occupy said false space, nullifying spare perceived space, a self cancelling equation. This equation is self correcting until all items in the catalog have been acquired, all credit cards have been cut up, or spouse has revoked right of occupancy, whichever comes first.
Not to be confused with Festool's Coronary, which is the reaction to a received credit card balance in the month after a loss of financial sense, resulting in the purchase of a number of new tools.
Not to be confused with Festool's Coronary, which is the reaction to a received credit card balance in the month after a loss of financial sense, resulting in the purchase of a number of new tools.
ROb McGilp
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- Apr 5, 2007
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- 430
Well,
My shop is a Tardis. The size of a phone box outside, but the space time continuum means nothing inside. I have my own 18 hole golf course with the first tee just next to the Kapex and the 18th green just near the fridge, by the Bandsaw. The saw dust piles count as hazards.
Regards,
Rob
My shop is a Tardis. The size of a phone box outside, but the space time continuum means nothing inside. I have my own 18 hole golf course with the first tee just next to the Kapex and the 18th green just near the fridge, by the Bandsaw. The saw dust piles count as hazards.
Regards,
Rob
- Joined
- Jan 22, 2007
- Messages
- 1,134
First off. I've had to build two projects keeping in mind they'd have to fit between the joist's on the ceiling above built them upside down so the legs fit between the joists).
I share my shop with the laundry room, kids bikes and ride on tractor with trailer, hockey gear. Allot of it goes outside on shop days.
I'd venture to say my shop is about 10 feet by 8 feet and contains a full size hand tool bench, miter saw, drill press, grinder, lathe, bandsaw, planer, CT-22, MFT and a whole whack of Festool's stored away in the cabinet
Dan C
I share my shop with the laundry room, kids bikes and ride on tractor with trailer, hockey gear. Allot of it goes outside on shop days.
I'd venture to say my shop is about 10 feet by 8 feet and contains a full size hand tool bench, miter saw, drill press, grinder, lathe, bandsaw, planer, CT-22, MFT and a whole whack of Festool's stored away in the cabinet
Dan C
Go get yourselves a beer, cup of tea, or whatever, this is going to be kinda long.
(BTW, for those of you who might partake of an occasional cup 'o tea, You may have something to remember my father by. He was working as an artist for the advertising agency of BBD&O when he was doing a layout for, i think, Tetly Tea. He wasasked to come up with an idea for stretching, or whatever, the enjoyment of brewing a cup of the product. It was MY DAD, who first came up with the idea of the flow thru tea bag. I don't know who actually got credit as he was one of the low men on the BBD&O totem pole at the time)
When I was in HS, (1945-49), we lived in a small house with even smaller kitchen. No running water or electricity for first year or two in the house. outside plumbing. Oil lamps for illumination. The whole nine yards of Abe Lincoln type life except our heat was a kerosene cook stove in the kitchen. since i was the mechanical one in the house (remember? brother was an artist, who at the time was mostly interrested in drawing and painting), it fel upon my shoulders to keep things like the outside water pump primed and ready for operation at all times. The winter time meant that i had to be sure there was enough HOT woter to not only thaw out the pump, but to have a large enough supply to also prime it. That meant i had to be sure the kerosene stove was always operable. If any of you hade the great good fortune :
:-\ to grow up with kerosene stoves, you know that in itself could be no mean feat. They worked fine when the weather was warm and sunshiney. when it was cold and very blustery, they became the most cantankerous utility known to mankind. I supose, in hindsight, I must have aided nature in some sneaky way, as i was often required to spend a day home from school for the purpose of restoring that cantankerous stove back to a degree of normalcy so we could eat that evening and haveenough warmt to sit at the kitchen table dressed with only a few layers less than required for survival at the north pole.
Our bath tub was a great big wash tub that we set in the middle of the kitchen floor. With no insulation under the floor, any water that spilled over that tub was still there in the spring. Eventually, my project before my 2 yr vacation with my Uncle Sam, wa to remove that relic of a kitchen and build a new one for my mother. Since the kitchen was built on about 9 or 10 pile posts, it was an easy matter to start the removal by backing the car up to the backside, tying a rope to one of the posts and driving away. And there begins a whole collection of tales that have afforded many a fond memory.
Let's go back to my HS days i have related herein. As i have related, both my mother and my brother were quite artistically endowed. Brother, at the time, was interrested in drawing and painting. during those days, his art was realistic and one actually knew what the finished product was meant to be. Mom, at that time was mostly into sewing and interior decorating. Me, i was into hunting, fishing, farming and almost anything that ultimatly brough some sort of mess into the house, mostly by way of muddy boots and dusty clothing. Among all of my interrests was the beginnig of my interrest in WW'ing. I had just finished building a chicken coop in my back yard (with some help from an old Scottish cabinetmaker next door (someday i'll tell some about him, one of my alltime favorite people from those days)), i was into shop classes at school (started as freshman) and was beginning to become interrested enough in that hobby that I often found things to build at home.
during warm weather, there was no great problem. we all found our own space to carry out our individual projects. Mom and brother took up very little space. Me, that was a different story and as i look back, I have no reason to complain over a question Mom asked me at one time, "Why can't you get interrested in the sort of things your brother does where they don't take up a lot of room or make a big mess?" I was sort of put out at the time, but you know how it is with time. At any given moment, i might be cleaning one of my guns in the very cold living room. I loved smell of Hoppe's No 9. At the same time, the entrance room (never used in the winter) was webbed from doorknob to chair back and on around the room with winding thread as i found it easier to rewind my bamboo flyrod by stretching the thread over as large and area as possible. to get to my guns when i cleaned them in the cold living room, i had to crawl on my hands and knees to get under that flyrod thread. I could streatch that winding operation into weeks, what with all of the other mischief i could find along the way.
At the same time all of this was going on, I like to cut wood into pieces and stick them together. sometimmes, as i progressed, i learned how to plane. The only room left for this was, guess>>> the kitchen. You cannot believe how big a pile of shavings I could make before i finally gave up to the reality that I had ruined one more beautiful piece of wood. We would have to step over and around, and under to get from kitchen sink and work counter to get to the kitchen table for dinner. sometimes, when it was stormy, I would have to crawl or climb back and forth from table to stove to sink just to keep heat in house and fuel in my tummy.
The size of that old kitche? Maybe 8x20. Maybe smaller. Atleast, it sometimes seemed a whole lot smaller. but we did enjoy ourselves.
Tinker
(BTW, for those of you who might partake of an occasional cup 'o tea, You may have something to remember my father by. He was working as an artist for the advertising agency of BBD&O when he was doing a layout for, i think, Tetly Tea. He wasasked to come up with an idea for stretching, or whatever, the enjoyment of brewing a cup of the product. It was MY DAD, who first came up with the idea of the flow thru tea bag. I don't know who actually got credit as he was one of the low men on the BBD&O totem pole at the time)
When I was in HS, (1945-49), we lived in a small house with even smaller kitchen. No running water or electricity for first year or two in the house. outside plumbing. Oil lamps for illumination. The whole nine yards of Abe Lincoln type life except our heat was a kerosene cook stove in the kitchen. since i was the mechanical one in the house (remember? brother was an artist, who at the time was mostly interrested in drawing and painting), it fel upon my shoulders to keep things like the outside water pump primed and ready for operation at all times. The winter time meant that i had to be sure there was enough HOT woter to not only thaw out the pump, but to have a large enough supply to also prime it. That meant i had to be sure the kerosene stove was always operable. If any of you hade the great good fortune :
:-\ to grow up with kerosene stoves, you know that in itself could be no mean feat. They worked fine when the weather was warm and sunshiney. when it was cold and very blustery, they became the most cantankerous utility known to mankind. I supose, in hindsight, I must have aided nature in some sneaky way, as i was often required to spend a day home from school for the purpose of restoring that cantankerous stove back to a degree of normalcy so we could eat that evening and haveenough warmt to sit at the kitchen table dressed with only a few layers less than required for survival at the north pole. Our bath tub was a great big wash tub that we set in the middle of the kitchen floor. With no insulation under the floor, any water that spilled over that tub was still there in the spring. Eventually, my project before my 2 yr vacation with my Uncle Sam, wa to remove that relic of a kitchen and build a new one for my mother. Since the kitchen was built on about 9 or 10 pile posts, it was an easy matter to start the removal by backing the car up to the backside, tying a rope to one of the posts and driving away. And there begins a whole collection of tales that have afforded many a fond memory.
Let's go back to my HS days i have related herein. As i have related, both my mother and my brother were quite artistically endowed. Brother, at the time, was interrested in drawing and painting. during those days, his art was realistic and one actually knew what the finished product was meant to be. Mom, at that time was mostly into sewing and interior decorating. Me, i was into hunting, fishing, farming and almost anything that ultimatly brough some sort of mess into the house, mostly by way of muddy boots and dusty clothing. Among all of my interrests was the beginnig of my interrest in WW'ing. I had just finished building a chicken coop in my back yard (with some help from an old Scottish cabinetmaker next door (someday i'll tell some about him, one of my alltime favorite people from those days)), i was into shop classes at school (started as freshman) and was beginning to become interrested enough in that hobby that I often found things to build at home.
during warm weather, there was no great problem. we all found our own space to carry out our individual projects. Mom and brother took up very little space. Me, that was a different story and as i look back, I have no reason to complain over a question Mom asked me at one time, "Why can't you get interrested in the sort of things your brother does where they don't take up a lot of room or make a big mess?" I was sort of put out at the time, but you know how it is with time. At any given moment, i might be cleaning one of my guns in the very cold living room. I loved smell of Hoppe's No 9. At the same time, the entrance room (never used in the winter) was webbed from doorknob to chair back and on around the room with winding thread as i found it easier to rewind my bamboo flyrod by stretching the thread over as large and area as possible. to get to my guns when i cleaned them in the cold living room, i had to crawl on my hands and knees to get under that flyrod thread. I could streatch that winding operation into weeks, what with all of the other mischief i could find along the way.
At the same time all of this was going on, I like to cut wood into pieces and stick them together. sometimmes, as i progressed, i learned how to plane. The only room left for this was, guess>>> the kitchen. You cannot believe how big a pile of shavings I could make before i finally gave up to the reality that I had ruined one more beautiful piece of wood. We would have to step over and around, and under to get from kitchen sink and work counter to get to the kitchen table for dinner. sometimes, when it was stormy, I would have to crawl or climb back and forth from table to stove to sink just to keep heat in house and fuel in my tummy.
The size of that old kitche? Maybe 8x20. Maybe smaller. Atleast, it sometimes seemed a whole lot smaller. but we did enjoy ourselves.
Tinker
I forgot to mention one of my other interrests. i did mention that i had built a chicken coop. I put together eggs for my egg route. I candled the eggs, and for a coupe of years, started my new supply of chicks. all this also in the KITCHEN. I really don't know how my mom put up with me during those days. :-\
Tinker
Tinker
I have been working on some of my project plans to get started on when my outside work gets closed down for winter. I suddenly realized that the size of my shop is not my biggest (smallest) problem. as i was sketching, it dawned on me that i have always had to keep in mind access FROM my shop. I have 3 entrances. One a very narrow and VERY STEEP stairway. If a project is over 32" in width and 40" in height, i can't go out that way. In fact, if the dimensions come even close, it is a two man operation.
the second doorway is about 36" w x 48" h with several floor tools in the way. That is the corner where a whole lot of debris and seldom used machines seem to congregate. Even if those were not in the way, it is still a two man project, even if the project is not too heavy.
The third exit is the cellar hatchway. I have purposely eliminated the steps so large items can be brought in or removed. I have used my backhoe to bring in such items as washers, driers, HW heaters, etc. To bring in a Dutch cupboard my father had built in late 20's or early 30's, it was a four man job. The width of the cupboard was no problem, but with a dolly under the 60+ something tall piece, the top slid under the floor joists with less than 1/4" clearance. My father was in sort of same situation when he build it. He and my mother were living in a rented house and the only area large enough to build the cupboard was the attic. He had it all put together and discovered that widthwise, there was no problem to get it down. height wise, was another story. It just did not fit and he had to completely disassemble. He reassembled and reglued in the room where it was to be located. Right now, it is down in my cellar as a storage closet and shelves. There just ain't no room anyplace else in the house.
Interresting side note: That cupboard is all pine. A few knots but not so many as todays #2 might have. What is most interresting is the clseness of the grain. You just do not find pine anywhere today with the grain lines 1/4" to 3/8" separations. That had to have been virgin old growth pine. the sides were of one piece 24" width.
Tinker
the second doorway is about 36" w x 48" h with several floor tools in the way. That is the corner where a whole lot of debris and seldom used machines seem to congregate. Even if those were not in the way, it is still a two man project, even if the project is not too heavy.
The third exit is the cellar hatchway. I have purposely eliminated the steps so large items can be brought in or removed. I have used my backhoe to bring in such items as washers, driers, HW heaters, etc. To bring in a Dutch cupboard my father had built in late 20's or early 30's, it was a four man job. The width of the cupboard was no problem, but with a dolly under the 60+ something tall piece, the top slid under the floor joists with less than 1/4" clearance. My father was in sort of same situation when he build it. He and my mother were living in a rented house and the only area large enough to build the cupboard was the attic. He had it all put together and discovered that widthwise, there was no problem to get it down. height wise, was another story. It just did not fit and he had to completely disassemble. He reassembled and reglued in the room where it was to be located. Right now, it is down in my cellar as a storage closet and shelves. There just ain't no room anyplace else in the house.
Interresting side note: That cupboard is all pine. A few knots but not so many as todays #2 might have. What is most interresting is the clseness of the grain. You just do not find pine anywhere today with the grain lines 1/4" to 3/8" separations. That had to have been virgin old growth pine. the sides were of one piece 24" width.
Tinker
John Stevens
Member
- Joined
- Jan 16, 2007
- Messages
- 815
Tinker said:
Yeah, but well worth it. Our world has changed so much, and I think it's so valuable to hear what things were like not so long ago. Thanks very much for such a great story, & hope you'll find the time to share more.
BTW, my dad went to high school at about the same time as you, and I often remember his stories about the house he grew up in, which was heated with a wood stove. This was in Philadelphia, PA--not somewhere out in the country! Ice was delivered door-to-door because most people didn't have refrigerators, and some people were still using horses and wagons to haul stuff through the city when he was a boy. Compared to you, my father had it easy--his family had electricity, indoor plumbing and a telephone. (Edit: I forgot to mention that my dad's parents were both school teachers, and they enoyed a "middle class" standard of living for those times.)
Regards,
John
Dave Ronyak
Member
- Joined
- Jan 23, 2007
- Messages
- 2,234
I agree with John. Another great story (and combined history and woodworking lesson) from Tinker!! Keep them coming, please.
Tinker,
Since your shop is so space challenged, have you built any larger projects using knockdown hardware? I just received my first catalogues yesterday from LeeValley, and I note they offer allen/flat head connector bolts and cam-lock fittings for that purpose. I used the connector bolts for a combined trundle/captains bed (trundle bed on bottom with a row of full width drawers between the trundle and the upper main bed) so it could be disassembled and moved without a forklift truck. It's been in daily use for several years, has been moved, and has never had any problems with coming loose or racking (the side members containing the drawer front frames are 17" high) whatsoever. It's made of hard maple that is stained to match a similar engineered and styled desk made of cherry. No problems with it, either. These items were made from solid hardwoods. I don't know how durable similar mechanical connections would be if PC melamine or plywood had bee used instead.
Dave R.
Tinker,
Since your shop is so space challenged, have you built any larger projects using knockdown hardware? I just received my first catalogues yesterday from LeeValley, and I note they offer allen/flat head connector bolts and cam-lock fittings for that purpose. I used the connector bolts for a combined trundle/captains bed (trundle bed on bottom with a row of full width drawers between the trundle and the upper main bed) so it could be disassembled and moved without a forklift truck. It's been in daily use for several years, has been moved, and has never had any problems with coming loose or racking (the side members containing the drawer front frames are 17" high) whatsoever. It's made of hard maple that is stained to match a similar engineered and styled desk made of cherry. No problems with it, either. These items were made from solid hardwoods. I don't know how durable similar mechanical connections would be if PC melamine or plywood had bee used instead.
Dave R.
John Stevens said:
John, For about 6 yrs, i lived on my uncle's farm in the Berkshires of Massachusetts. I was dropped off for about two weeks while my mother & father tried to settle their differences. the stay lasted thru probably the most impressionable period of my life. it was during the War years. I have a whole lot of stories bouncing around in my head of those, since i was a kid on the home front, enjoying life, days.
(Interresting side note: Does your dad remember the old hand cranked telephones. Our service was the next to last service in the USA to have them. I tell my peers about that and they think i am crazy. Ask your dad if he remembers.)
anyway, back to your remark about having ice delivered dood to door. I remember that. I still call a refridgerator and ICE BOX. Before we had door to door delivery, we made our own ice. The pond we got it from was way back up in the north pasture of 160 acre property. I won't go into a description of tools, or methods, here, of how we cut and hauled the ice. the important part was to wait til the ice was atleast 12" thick and hoped there was enough snow on the ground that we could sled it down to the ice house. there, we layed in a few inches of saw dust (from logging mill, not like you see in your wood shop). A layer of ice spaced an inch or so apart in all directions. Another layer of saw dust, being sure saw dust worked down the verticle spaces. Another layer of ice. Another layer of sawdust and so on until the shed was packed full.
We used the ice, not only to keep food cooled, but more importantly, and just as important keeping the household food supply safe, but it cooled the milk as soon as it had been extracted from the cows.
It is amazing how long ice could be stored in the way described. i don't recall if we ever had any left over at beginning of next "ice cutting", and if so, I don't know weather or not it was disposed of. The very worst problem with cutting ice was that some seasons, if the snow was not swept (or shoveled) of the ice, it could become "honeycombed". That was disaster. When it got to a certain thickness, we could go on to the pond with the horses and they would drag a plow. If we got a rel heavy snow, it was just, "everybody grab a shovel." We did not use those "newfangled" snow shovels with the wide blade. we used what we called "barn shovels". They had a flat scoop about 12" wide. For lighter snows, we used a "coal scoop". You learned early on that you did not use a shovel that was more than your body wanted to handle. to this day, i never shovel snow with anything wider than about half way between the old "barn shovel" and the coal scoop.. When you read about men dieing from shoveling snow, it is usually from using those oversized man killers that are labeled in the stores as "snow shovels."
I could go on and on about the fun of living and surviving hard winters, both on the farm and later when my brother and I moved back to living with or mom. One thing I do remember is that snows, even deep ones, are no where near as deep these days as they were when i was 4 or 5 years old. Now, ain't that strange? 8)
One of these days, i am going to go back over all of the entries to find out just what i have written. :-[
Tinker
Dave Ronyak said:
Dave, i have build a few things designed to come apart. Usually, i try to design in sections that can be easilly bolted or unbolted.
Several years ago, my daughter was moving from condo to condo. Usually an upgrade as her between hubbies situation began to improve. I built her a book case using sliding dovetails. Each shelf was anchored with a sliding DT which i had constructed with tapers so the shelves would lock in tight, but easy to knck apart to dismantle for the next move. The sides were made with 1x12 and tapered to about 8" at the top. Each shelf was different size according to how it related to the sides. she could put the entire book case along with her books right in the trunk or backseat of her car.
That was done long before I ever even heard of Festool. Also, my Wood Rat has an allowance to make taperd sliding dovetails. i will be doing the same sort of project for grandson sooner than i realise. He is just about past the toys stages and I will son be constructing a trophy case for his wrestling prizes. I am trying to figure how to do a knockdown display case for him that can double as book case if so desired.
Tinker
All this remoniscing (sp?) has made me nostalgiac for the days of my youth. I may well be the youngest person on this forum to have used an outhouse (no half moon window) until my mid-teens.
My grandparents lived on a farm in central Texas, and there was no bathroom in the house. There was one sink (in the kitchen) with running water (the drain just went under the house), but you had to walk outside and use a hand pump to build pressure. We never used it, but rather used water gathered in a sistern that collected rainwater off the roof of the workshed (clapboard building with a dirt floor). We had a steam powered engine that powered a multitude of machines including a wheat thresher and a lathe.
We even had a working windmill that was orignally built in 1909, the year my Grandad was born.
I have many, many fond memories of time spent on that farm, hunting, fishing, riding my bike through the pastures. I'm about half lit, right now, and I'm tearing up a bit. :'(
I mentioned that I may be the youngest person on the forum to have used an outhouse (not a plastic box dropped off on a jobsite)....
I'm 35.
My grandparents lived on a farm in central Texas, and there was no bathroom in the house. There was one sink (in the kitchen) with running water (the drain just went under the house), but you had to walk outside and use a hand pump to build pressure. We never used it, but rather used water gathered in a sistern that collected rainwater off the roof of the workshed (clapboard building with a dirt floor). We had a steam powered engine that powered a multitude of machines including a wheat thresher and a lathe.
We even had a working windmill that was orignally built in 1909, the year my Grandad was born.
I have many, many fond memories of time spent on that farm, hunting, fishing, riding my bike through the pastures. I'm about half lit, right now, and I'm tearing up a bit. :'(
I mentioned that I may be the youngest person on the forum to have used an outhouse (not a plastic box dropped off on a jobsite)....
I'm 35.
When i was on The Farm, the outhouse was actually indoors. There was a closed in "woodshed" at the back end of the house. The inside wall of the woodshed was the wall of a long hallway on the other side that led to, you guessed it, the "two holer" . Now that was realy livin'. However, when my uncle's father (the man was a "grandfather" to me, even tho not actually related to me) came to visit, he never used that "luxurious" outhouse. He always said he was broke to the barn and there is where he went to do his bizness. That outhouse is still there and when power is gone, it still gets used to this day. As long as I have been away, I can still find my way there and can actually put my hand exactly onto the light switches along the way. (we had electrcity in most of the house by the start of the war WW II)
Fast forward: When my mom bought a house ($2500 A long story about how she got the loan and the joys involved with paying it off>>> this could go on all day) in Wilton, there were none of the amenities that my brother and i had become used to for the past several years out in the boonies of the Berkshires. The outhouse was actually outdoors. That first winter, Mom tried a chemical toilet. You did your biz into a regular looking toilet, porcelain paint or glaze, and all. Instead of running water, there was some sort of chemical used to breakdown the products that would be introduced by us humans. it really did not smell bad and it could probably have been fine for a family of one who never partook of actual food in the persuit of survival. However, as mom said, "It was meant for a family considerably more constipated than the Tinkers." Within a very short time, we went to useing the outhouse, even during the most stormy of nights. We did not even use the old established method used by so many in those days of yore, the "pee-pot" under the bed. We were tough :
As we became reintroduced to the joys of electricity and running water in the house, Mom wanted to get rid of the outhouse. I, however, insisted that she keep it. Afterall, it was not unheard of for people in the area to lose power upon occasion. as it turned out, that was one arguement I did win with my mother, and so many times, it was proven that i had been correct in my reasoning. One tends to forget the ugly in their lives, and so, i do not remember one single time that i ever rubbed that in.
I have mentioned that for the first several years we lived in Wilton, CT, I had a few chickens. I sold eggs in the neighborhood. eventually, I got rid of the chickens (via dinner table type usage) and the chicken house was moved a little closer to the house. It had been placed originally as far away from the house as possible on a 1/4 acre lot. Actually, 1/2 acre, but part of the property was too wet for such usage. One did not keep chickens close to the house as there was always a constant fight and vigilance to keep up todate with the fight against certain furry rodents with hailess tails. you did not want them close to the house. Anyhow, Mom did not like the looks of the outhouse. actually, i think it was her second husband who did not like it. (He was a good guy, so any remarks i might make concerning his likes vs Tinker family likes are definitely meant as facts of life and not as put downs) So, we got rid of the old OH with the new moon over the entrance and dragged the retired chicken coop over into its place. The chicken coopp became a tool shed and was nearly totally filled with garden tools. both Mom and her new love were avid gardeners and that coop was the perfect size for their needs.
However, once again, even tho no longer my business, i interceeded with the advice that one corner should be preserved as an outhouse. I constructed, for them. a little throne in the back corner and that building remained as tool shed and outhouse combo until the house was sold (or slightly previous to sale) in 2000 something. Mom still had to use it upon rare ocassions right up until her first stroke at age 95. she was still iving alone, and still very independent. and still quite proud that when the electricity was lost for a few days, she was still able to cope. She had her coal stove in the kitchen for heat and emegency cookin, she still had a couple of kerosene lanterns and plenty of candles. AND she still had her outhouse.
(Hey Garry you and i run into the same problem with reminiscences. My keyboard is gettin' all blurry right now. I can't see too good to edit, so y'all will have to struggle with the lack of editing)
Tinker
Fast forward: When my mom bought a house ($2500 A long story about how she got the loan and the joys involved with paying it off>>> this could go on all day) in Wilton, there were none of the amenities that my brother and i had become used to for the past several years out in the boonies of the Berkshires. The outhouse was actually outdoors. That first winter, Mom tried a chemical toilet. You did your biz into a regular looking toilet, porcelain paint or glaze, and all. Instead of running water, there was some sort of chemical used to breakdown the products that would be introduced by us humans. it really did not smell bad and it could probably have been fine for a family of one who never partook of actual food in the persuit of survival. However, as mom said, "It was meant for a family considerably more constipated than the Tinkers." Within a very short time, we went to useing the outhouse, even during the most stormy of nights. We did not even use the old established method used by so many in those days of yore, the "pee-pot" under the bed. We were tough :
As we became reintroduced to the joys of electricity and running water in the house, Mom wanted to get rid of the outhouse. I, however, insisted that she keep it. Afterall, it was not unheard of for people in the area to lose power upon occasion. as it turned out, that was one arguement I did win with my mother, and so many times, it was proven that i had been correct in my reasoning. One tends to forget the ugly in their lives, and so, i do not remember one single time that i ever rubbed that in.
I have mentioned that for the first several years we lived in Wilton, CT, I had a few chickens. I sold eggs in the neighborhood. eventually, I got rid of the chickens (via dinner table type usage) and the chicken house was moved a little closer to the house. It had been placed originally as far away from the house as possible on a 1/4 acre lot. Actually, 1/2 acre, but part of the property was too wet for such usage. One did not keep chickens close to the house as there was always a constant fight and vigilance to keep up todate with the fight against certain furry rodents with hailess tails. you did not want them close to the house. Anyhow, Mom did not like the looks of the outhouse. actually, i think it was her second husband who did not like it. (He was a good guy, so any remarks i might make concerning his likes vs Tinker family likes are definitely meant as facts of life and not as put downs) So, we got rid of the old OH with the new moon over the entrance and dragged the retired chicken coop over into its place. The chicken coopp became a tool shed and was nearly totally filled with garden tools. both Mom and her new love were avid gardeners and that coop was the perfect size for their needs.
However, once again, even tho no longer my business, i interceeded with the advice that one corner should be preserved as an outhouse. I constructed, for them. a little throne in the back corner and that building remained as tool shed and outhouse combo until the house was sold (or slightly previous to sale) in 2000 something. Mom still had to use it upon rare ocassions right up until her first stroke at age 95. she was still iving alone, and still very independent. and still quite proud that when the electricity was lost for a few days, she was still able to cope. She had her coal stove in the kitchen for heat and emegency cookin, she still had a couple of kerosene lanterns and plenty of candles. AND she still had her outhouse.
(Hey Garry you and i run into the same problem with reminiscences. My keyboard is gettin' all blurry right now. I can't see too good to edit, so y'all will have to struggle with the lack of editing)
Tinker
