Woodworkers

Our reliance on plastics and other materials means that today more woodworkers are hobbyists than professionals. I hope that doesn’t mean generations of children will never know or relish the distinctive smell of workshops.

You know, the fusion of sawdust, glues, wax topcoats, oil finishes, a hint of wood burned by saws or sanders left in place too long, and in certain cases, some basement mustiness.   

That combo is a cherished smell from my childhood, so I should add it to my June 10, 2010, blog post about fond memories jogged by scents.

Woodworking smells cause me to reminisce about Harold Lampman, who I knew only as "Dad" even though he was my grandfather. He crafted countless gifts for us grandkids: dollhouses, jewelry boxes, stilts, doll strollers, frames to showcase my grandmother’s needlepoint, etc.

Like Harry Potter, my grandfather could work magic. He would take a piece of oak, cherry or mahogany, place it on his lathe, and fashion a replacement leg for antique furniture—a leg that was indistinguishable from the original legs.

My grandfather didn’t stop at furniture either. When he was a teenager, he built his first boat. Not a toy boat attached to a string, but an actual boat to carry more than one person (see photos below). He went on to build cabin cruisers, boats we sailed on Lake Erie and made memories on at Long Point marina. And homes were no problem for him either; when he finally retired, he was the chief inspector for Canada Mortgage and Housing Corp. in Hamilton.

I can no longer visit my grandfather's workshop, but I am lucky to have a hubby who builds me: birdhouses; walking sticks; a bench fashioned from a special piece of cherry from my grandparents; an inset bedframe to spare me from kicking the legs and stubbing/breaking my toes; and a renovated home in the woods. I'm thankful to have someone who causes woodworking smells to waft my way, and in so doing, conjures memories and helps me forge new ones.

      AWESOME!!! 

Am I alone in treasuring workshop scents?