Today I replaced my double workshop doors.
I realised some of the methods or idiosyncrasies were things I remember dad actually telling me about.
One was a long shanked screwdriver would exert a lot of torque on the poor little screw way off in the distance. And it really works.
A stubborn screw can often be freed by a sharp clout with a hammer on the end of the screw driver, then a short tightening action then anticlockwise and voilla, it'd let go. Well most times.
Beeswax or candle, or dry soap rubbed on the thread helps a screw drive into the wood.
When driving (large nails) a rub on the side of the nose (Outside, not Inside!!) would help the nail along its way. The nose (well mine) is often quite oily.
Then there's the things he didn't actually elaborate on but by observations picked up and did myself.
He was adept at sheet metal work and I still have a neat hinged metal box folded and solded, I made and that now complements my workshop.
Mum. Well I learnt to sew, mend my clothes, darn my socks. Yep. For those that are not sure what that entails I'll leave to Mr Google. I still have the wooden mushroom for such an occasion.
I guess she taught me to cook, but dad also was no sloutch about the kitchen.
Probably growing up on a farm and in the post WW2 era and a dad who endured Changi and those survival skills impacted my upbringing.
It wasn't until our kids drifted onto the scene that I probably appreciated the impact my parents had in my life and my responsibility to nurture the new young lives we were enjoying.
And now I see it repeated as they start the cycle and help shape those enterprising little people we call grand kids.
There's also those often ridiculous things that seemingly confound all reason. Things that are nothing other than habit.
The roast "that has to be cut in half" then cooked.
Long forgotten were those Sunday roasts to feed 15 that was about å? of a beast, in a pan that by today's standards would feed an army, but still not large enough for that huge chunk of meat, so it was cut in 2 and sat sideways in the pan.
Grandma forgets when the family downsizes, along with the piece of meat, but tradition dictates "cut the roast in half".
So the by now 3lb roast sits rather forlorn, cut in two, even in a smaller pot but still way too big!!
Sometimes old habits are just too silly for words.
I needed that on a Monday morning (here, not there).
Turn the nail upside down and dull the point with the hammer then drive it in. Less likely to split your board.
One of my favorites was that Dad always drove a screw halfway (or more) with a hammer. I assume he developed the habit in the days when difficult to work with straight screws were the norm, prior to Phillips, Torx, or Roberstson heads being common. Or maybe it was just impatience or "energy conservation". He must've felt he'd died and gone to heaven when he got his own cordless impact driver and a box of Phillips heads.
