My failure to hand tool
The craftsman keeps his tools in a particular place. Close at hand, with little need to reach too far for whatever the perfect tool might be. That is not me.
I have a long tradition of starting a task without prior planning. So where does that put us? My friends have vivid memories of me driving screws with a handsaw. Right job and wrong tool.
About twenty years ago I realized that I needed to reform. I took on, what was for me, a major renovation job. Installing a new floor. Actually, just the floor covering. A lot of cutting with my little jigsaw. I managed to wear all the teeth of the saw blades before completion of the job. So I went shopping. Although the floor was done I knew there were other jobs. I aimed big. I bought a wonderful mitre saw. Lots of gadget, including a laser pointer. You never know when there will be a stray cat in the room.
I never used the saw. It terrified me. When I would push the button and the lights would dim, all I could imagine was missing digits, mine. Fast forward to now, the saw is safe in its original carton. I did the obvious thing. Gave up floor renovations, sold the house and moved to another province. Now you can see why my history with tools is fatally flawed. I have a sledge hammer for the real jobs. And, I found the rasp, I did not know I even had one. I now have an acolyte. Going forward, she will do all the fun stuff.
