Wednesday, May 11, 2011


Now I didn't mention Craftsmen or Snap-On did I? I just love antique tools. I am not sure if it is because my dad gave me saw and hand sanders years ago that I hung up in my apartment on the wall behind my gas-on-gas stove. I had never been interested in old things when I grew up. Funny. My dad had the best stuff in his garage and his cellar. I thought he had alot of garbage in the two sheds and the garage, till he built my mom a huge built in porch on the side of the house, and built the porch on top of a great sized cellar. Yes, two cellars and a garage. My dad was a construction worker in the 60's and 70's and a glass cutter and machine operator for Howard Glass in Worcester. He would bring home glass door knobs, brass hinges, old cheese boxes, and every screw, nut and bolt you could imagine and had them stored in ginger ale cans that were connected to a board on the garage wall. Amazing how many companies now like Ikea or Pottery Barn come up with decorating ideas that my dad did for organization in the garage. He saved old newspapers about Kennedy's assassination. He had metal tools, old pencils and pens in wooden boxes and if you needed something to be fixed or needed just a little something, he had it. He knew how to solder, make a picture frame, and even tinker in the car even when the cars became more updated, you would pull in the driveway and see that engine hood popped up. It was the way he tinkered. When my dad was found to have prostate cancer, he tried to have a couple of yard sales and he brought in a dumpster. I can't even begin to tell you what he had to get rid of. There was no possible way I could take anything because I lived in an apartment and besides that, I did not have a love for that can of marbles, or the old whiskey barrel.
What happened you may ask? I really don't know. When I got my first home, I went down the street to a little local antique shop, and bought a metal table for my old home, and a bunch of flour sacks; you know those pretty fabrics that women would get their flour in years ago and then make their daughters skirts out of them. Their daughters would be embarrassed.
Now that you have heard a bit about my history, enjoy some of my photos.

No comments:

Post a Comment