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It's a gray, rainy day . . .

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Eleven of the clock on the gray and rainy Sunday morning following a day of frenzy, whistle-shriek, sawdust, and parents absolutely grooving on doing new things with their kids.  Kids . . . not just boys, lots of sisters, too. And I'm sitting in my big marshmallow chair, a gooseneck lamp gandering over my shoulder as I read the 7-day library book I didn't even get to crack yesterday, watching the raindrops dance on the pavement, listening to the susurrous of the leaves scrubbing themselves and the tympani of the thunder.  There doesn't seem to be so much lightning; it's not violent; it's a nourishing rain. And Big Sally is sitting on the concrete slab that remains of Mr. Moore's butcher shop in the back yard.  She is not oozing down into the warm September mud like a farrowing sow.  When I get ready to key her big six-cylinder Detroit diesel to life Friday morning, I won't have to call the National Guard to bring one of their bit Battl...
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Camp Swampy September 2017

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Just got home from overnighting with Big Sally at Ozark Trails Camporall at Camp Swampy. Over eight hundred people there - assorted age groups, etc. Last time Big Sally and I went we got pretty much ignored; so I was prepared this time . . . I have a page-long to-do list, and I brought a 7-day book from the library. After Presentation of the Colors this morning at 0900, the first half-dozen kids and parents knocked at the door, and it was non-stop bop till 5:PM . . . when the powers that be (so to speak) turned off the generator, and two kids that just sort of shambled it got stopped before they could start. We made whistles . . . hundreds of whistles. I must have sawn up fifteen or twenty linear feet of 1x6 and 1x8 into 3/4-inch by 3-1/2-inch prisms and sawed off 1-inch plugs of 3/8" dowels for fipples. Each fipple had to be sanded in half the long way, adjusted for tone, marked, withdrawn, glued back in, and sawn off. Labor intensive. Four kids even paid to ma...
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A Day Closer

Getting a day closer every day. -Whois- is changing the name pointer for the website from Homestead to Host Gator.  That is supposed to happen in the next day or so.  Till then, I'm sort of stuck.  I'm working on connecting to Eventbrite to make the connection to the new website. I just ordered two dozen bandsaw blades for the new season. I just ordered twenty sanding belts for the new season. I have plenty of cylinder weights to start the season with, but I'll order fifty pounds or so next week.  Same with decals. I have a third free-standing worktable in progress aboard Big Sally. I have a neckerchief slide competition shaping up for PWDW. Big Sally is going to Ni-Ka-Ga-Ha Camporall this afternoon for the weekend. And she's headed for the Scouting 500 in Kansas City next weekend. Thanks. Uncle Pat
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Busy Busy Busy

Website cratered Sunday. Still doing the endless list to get everything transferred to new host: .     Unlock .     EPP .     Name pointers What's next. Taking Big Sally to Ni-Ka-Ga-Ha District Camporall this weekend. Taking her to Scouting 500 in KCMO next weekend. Sawing patterns and wheels for neckerchief slides like a crazy man. Putting the inside of the Bus back together after having work done on the pneumatics systems . . . took many and many a panel off; unhooked many and many a line . . . replaced one air-pressure manifold and feet of rubber line. Replacing broken screws (I didn't do it; they were busted before I got her.) Sweeping like an indentured servant.  Drilling new holes for cabling . . . and sweeping some more. Rebuilding tool benches to reflect new tool arrangement. Oh, did I mention I'm working to rebuilding the calendar?  Yeah, that too. Hang in there another couple of days . . . Uncle Pat
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Persimmon

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This small town is amazing. The guy next door, well, two doors over, the house between us - the lady's in a nursing home and her fifty-year-old daughter comes by to mow the grass - anyway, Robert came over with a piece of persimmon. Like to got a hernia picking it up.  It's only about four inches in diameter, and a little over thirty-six long.  But it is h-a-r-d wood.  Says he cut it in December or February and has been letting it sit.  I'm going to let it sit for the rest of the year, just air drying, stabilizing. Then I'll make a couple of cars out of it, a couple of screwdriver handles, maybe see if I can turn a small live-edge bowl. Right now it's resting in the garden cart atop a straw bale for Kathryn's garden.  When I quit huffing and puffing, I'll find a quiet place to stash it where nobody'll toss it into a fireplace this winter. Life is Good. Uncle Pat
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Little Bitty Wood Cars

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I love wood. I love to walk and to camp under living wood. I love the aromas of living wood and of wood that has come to my shop to be celebrated and handled by me. I enjoy the discipline of celebrating the woods of the whole world in one small expression. Twenty years of building Pinewood Derby Cars with my own son and with other people's kids, and I'm not remotely tired of it yet.  I have a whole long list of other woods and projects to play with and to share. These are some photos from my shop . . . just a few, because I have a meeting to go to tonight, and I have to take Big Sally the Shop Bus to a camporee this weekend.  And she's a mess. The little red car is because people like to paint cars.  I love the grain of the wood to dance across my eyes. OK; that's my first blog post.
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