When I was a little girl I once said that when I grew up, I was going to be a carpenter like my father. My dad had apprenticed as a cabinet maker in Switzerland in the 1950's. After he married my mother, they moved to Chicago to begin a new life together, and since there weren't many opportunities for cabinet makers, he became a carpenter - a profession he continued for the rest of his life.
My sisters and I grew up around the sound of hammers and circular saws. We knew the difference between slotted flat and phillips screwdrivers. We played with wooden folding rulers. Chunky, flat carpenters pencils were normal in our house. We knew what a plumb line was and our father's old chicken house-turned-carpenter's shop was a treasure trove of sawdust piles, saw horses, stacks of discarded wood pieces and drill bits of every size.
When Habitat for Humanity was looking for photographers to spend some time taking photos of their recent home building project, I jumped at the chance for several reasons.

I drive by the site every now and then to check on the progress and I look forward to one day soon seeing a finished home. And I still love the smell of sawdust.
I smiled through this whole things, especially the "I still love the smell of sawdust" part. Me too. :)
ReplyDeleteVery well said.....it's like I wrote it myself! It's amazing how a sound of a hammer or saw just stops me in my track every time. And yes...the smell of fresh cut wood....ahhhh
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