As a young lad I grew up in a home that valued things made of wood. My parents were proud of the items of furniture that they acquired from their hard work and savings. I was taught to respect the tables, chairs, sideboards, and shelves that were part of our furnishings and our everyday life. My Dad used to say: "It took a lot of hard work and skill to create that, and we need to treat it well so it will last." My Mother demonstrated her respect for the furnishings by cleaning and polishing so that it always looked new and bright. On the rare occasion when a mark or a nick occurred due to normal use (not carelessness) it was treated as though it had become part of the furnishing and not worried about. If a mark was created through carelessness the creator was given a rebuke and lectured on the importance of respecting the maker and the wood itself.

My Dad was not a great woodworker, perhaps that is why he respected the skills of real craftsmen. However, he owned the requisite hammer, a couple of saws, a square, a brace for bits and both a plane and a spoke shave. From those basic tools, which I was allowed to use with respect, I was permitted to build push carts and wooden creations which we as neighbourhood kids used in our play. I do not remember being given extensive lessons in how to use these, but the rudiments were demonstrated and then I was on my own. About this time my Dad bought a scroll saw as a Christmas gift for me (and definitely for himself as well) and we embarked on producing some wooden lawn ornaments. Our lawn sported deer, a Santa and a sleigh all created on the scroll saw and with an electric hand jigsaw. 

I always found the making of my imperfect creations to be satisfying and when shop classes were introduced in Grade 7 and through to Grade 10 I enjoyed them immensely and slightly improved my skills. During the summers of my first two years in high school I had the opportunity to work a summer job at a Port Colborne Lumber Yard (Reichman Lumber on Main Street) which was owned by my Dad's cousin, Glen Reichman. Here I grew to marvel at the various kinds of wood and their properties and would stand in awe of the woodworkers who crafted custom doors, window sashes and trim for homes that were being built in the area. Much of the work in those days was custom ordered and this shop was one of the last in the area to do custom milling. 

However, in the mid to late 1950's, although there were woodworking shop classes in school, the classes were viewed as secondary in importance to book learning. The growing economy of the 1960s seemed to be pushing people toward professions and office jobs as a mark of success and future prosperity. The notion of getting a 'good university education' did not seem to focus as much on the skills of the various trades.

When I eventually bought my own home it was necessary to get my own tools and sharpen some skills to build things and do maintenance on home items. This was the era of slick power tools and I began to acquire the basic ones but did not focus on woodwork as a hobby. Family life and a career in education consumed all the time and energy that I could muster.

In later years, an interest in creating things led me to support Chris' artistic endeavours and make wooden items for her to tole paint and create with. This led me to building a set of tools and a small workshop that grew as project needs dictated. Along with new tools, encouragement and a desire to do the best I could with what I was charged with making, my skills grew slowly.

Formal retirement (after three careers and the on-going demands of historical research that I still do) did permit more time and a desire to really gain some skills with woodworking. I wish I had started working with wood more seriously earlier on in life, but I am enjoying my opportunity to learn and grow in skills and knowledge each and every time I am in my little shop.

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