Eight months after the fire and I’m still getting my tool kit back together. It’s interesting to see which have been the first to be repaired and which have waited longer. Partly this is down to what I’ve been making this year.
My Gransfors carving axe was top of the list for repair and it’s the one thing I really felt lost without it, the weight and shape of it just suits my and my carving so it got rehandled and sharpened before anything else. The sheath is made from oak bark tanned leather from J & FJ Baker of Devon.
I do much more carving these days than turning so my pole-lathe tools were further down the list and I’ve just finished handling and sharpening them up over the xmas break . The handles are simply carved from hazel in the round. They’ll never be hit with a mallet so don’t need to be strong. I find the texture of a carved surface gives me better grip and the different patterns make it easier to pick up the right tool from a rack.
Still a few more things to do, particularly my chisels which will have ash handles turned to fit the original ferrules – hence needing the turning tools. Make a tool to make a tool..
First we went into the bottom of the mill and brought out a Dunfanaghy curach built in the 50’s by Jack Robinson. Edward got his first curach at age 14 and told us the story of when his father took him to Mr Robinson’s workshop to buy a curach. “How much will it cost?” asked the rather straight-talking Mr Acland. Mr Robinson explained that the currach was “priced at one pound per foot. This one’s 7ft 6in, so that’ll be seven and a half pound.” “I’ll give you eight” came the reply.
The gunwales for our curach will be sawn from local spruce and the body of the boat made from hazel cut from Edward and Romola’s coppice wood. They’ve been managing the 2 acre site for 24 years, restoring it from a neglected and overstood coppice into a beautiful, productive woodland almost entirely by hand. We’ll be learning as we go along exactly what the ideal material looks like but there was no doubt that the woods were full of suitable rods, enough for a great flotilla of currachs.
I had a lot of fun at the weekend running my stall at Brantwood House. It was a beautiful weekend and something of a shame to spend it indoors but we were fortunately in a brilliant location in the Studio with a window overlooking Coniston Water. It is a beautiful spot and, on days like these, easy to see how it inspired John Ruskin while he lived here. I was running the stall with the help of my friend Susan who’s starting out as a basketmaker and did a good trade in willow stars. My fan birds were also selling well, catching nearly everyone’s eye as they entered the room especially once they realised that each bird is carved from a single, solid piece of wood.
Outside I met Bill Sanders, a trug maker from Shropshire. We talked about making and people we both know from the Greenwood Centre at Ironbridge. I particularly liked the caption on his sweatshirt which highlights how trug making is just one more traditional craft in danger of disappearing. While we chatted,Bill l carried on working on his trugs. Demonstrating your craft at shows like this helps you engage with visitors and show them your skills and the time involved in producing the products. It’s also a good way to keep up your stock and helps the day go by too. Although we were a bit more pushed for space up in the Studio, I brought along my chopping block and carved a few greenwood eating spoons from a lovely bit of cherry.
We’d been working hard all morning turning and raking down the hay and stacking it into pikes. It was a difficult morning, the heat was oppressive for us Brits and we struggled to understand Attila’s instructions on how he wanted us to be working. Once we’d finished, we returned to the courtyard tired and dirty. We ate an excellent meal prepared as always by Attila’s mother and girlfriend then settled down to relax for the rest of the day. Not half an hour later, Attila appeared and told us that he’d spotted his neighbours still working in the next field. There was no obligation, but he was going over to help and, if we wanted, we could join him to help them gather in their harvest before the coming thunder storm.
Off we went, half running up the lane with rakes and forks in hand while Attila shouted back that it was just like we’d been doing all morning, to work the same way. In the field we found the farmer with his son and daughter working to stack up a single pike while hay lay on the ground covering almost an half an acre of steep hillside. We set to work and suddenly everything fell into place and the confusions and irritations of the morning fell away, leaving an efficient haymaking team in its place. I could certainly feel the adrenalin running through me as we raced to beat the weather while lightning crashed around us. Everyone found unknown reserves of energy which at times came out as whoops of joy which were echoed back by others.
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