I find myself on the drive into work this morning looking at the world through a new set of eyes: everywhere I look all the sudden I see scraps of usable wood going to waste: burn piles, stray fence boards, stacks of broken shipping pallets, old furniture destined for the landfill. Would it be obsessive if I said I have an entirely new appreciation of twigs?
It just seems to be everywhere and one of those things I didn’t notice before being bitten by the woodworking bug.
I want to grab it all up, store it away, strip it, clean it, and give it a new home. Imagine all the beautiful knots, crotches, and grain patterns that won’t ever get to be appreciated. It’s like a chef (or in my case a couch potato watching a chef on the Food Network) watching pound after pound of fillet mignon being used to mop the floor with. Oh, the travesty!
There once was a hero named Robin Hood who reached a breaking point and started recycling the dignity and livelihoods of the English peasant class. Maybe that spirit blew through the trees and entered my dreams last night. Maybe it was just heartburn. All I know is the urge to respond is almost palpable.
I’ve had all I can stands, I can’t stands no more, as Popeye would say. I don’t have a proper pickup truck, but when the seats are laid down in the Cherokee I can get a fair amount of stuff in there. From here on out ol’ Pappy’s gonna knock on people’s doors, ring a few telephones, slip quietly at night into recovery mode and rescue these darling children from an undeserved fate.
It is, after all, only right… :)
Disclaimer: Pappy knows it’s wrong to steal. Any indication or interpretation that the previous post advocates or reflects a gaping hole in his morals should be attributed to literary license rather than a moral deficit.
-- --==[ Pappy ]==--