What a tool!!

[Wideboy]

ah yes but old tools always better, so much history got some really old record planes i found in the garage plus i got some Stanley's at work which are roughly 50 years old still original blades and are brilliant

Ahhhh, they don't make em like they used to... goddamn disposable society.

[tigersaw]

Originally Posted by K

They all give a strange sense of satisfaction and often make you feel like your Dad or Grandad...

Now that evokes memories of wandering down to the bottom of the garden, past the rhubarb and air raid shelter to my grandads shed, (which was a railway carridge, never explained), with instructions to wrap up warm, dont get in his way and tell him to come in for his tea.
Here was a new universe, bits of motorbikes everywhere, stuff from the war like gas masks, tank sights and ammo cases, tools wrapped up in oily rags, everything in different jars. Just being allowed to hold something while he did something that made sparks or spun round was exiting.

i just get carried away on the snap on van when he comes round, only problem is it gets rather expencive esspecially when you can pay him off like 10 pound a week!!

It's some old statute or law or something that once you are a Grandparent you have to grow Rhubarb at the bottom of your garden.

Mine was no mechanic, but a gardener and carpenter. I well remember different types of nails and screws all in dusty old jam jars on the shelves. Along with small cans of 3-in-1 oil and other little squirty things.
Then there was the old square tin with carefully rolled up half-packets of seeds, all maked and dated.

Strange bits of curved metal with worn old wooden handles - laying dormant until spring when they would usually make and array or different holes for planting things.
Huge heavy garden forks with wonderful brand names like 'Neverbend'.
Spades, and shovels, and being taught the difference between the two.

Screwdrivers so loved and used that their wooden handles had lost most of the paint - revealing the smooth grain; worn with use.
Chisels - really really sharp chisels, with their ends carefully oiled, wrapped in folded greaseproof paper which was in turn, covered with a couple of bits of cardboard sellotaped together.
Things in tins - I swear they nested and were breeding other things in tins - cos no body remembered who put them there or where they came from.

And string.

Real string.

Learning knots and how to lash together bamboos trellis frames for the peas. with real string.
It had a particular odour...

... infact the whole shed smelt of oil, soil and string.





I miss my Grampy.

I've had to change my lunchtime at work just so I miss the Snap-On man or I'd buy his van as well. In my toolchests there's close on £10K's worth of kit, and I'd like more. I'm a tool-porn addict, we have the Snap-on and Machine Mart catalogues in the downstairs loo.

Originally Posted by K

..

You have wonderful prose K

Originally Posted by Lozzo

I've had to change my lunchtime at work just so I miss the Snap-On man or I'd buy his van as well. In my toolchests there's close on £10K's worth of kit, and I'd like more. I'm a tool-porn addict, we have the Snap-on and Machine Mart catalogues in the downstairs loo.

Hehe, I can imagine people entering your loo hiding a copy of the Snap-On catalogue INSIDE a copy of razzle!!

[TEC]

Originally Posted by K

It's some old statute or law or something that once you are a Grandparent you have to grow Rhubarb at the bottom of your garden.

You don't have to be a gp for that, take mine where-ever I go

Mine was no mechanic.....

But sounds like we shared a shed I inherited most of my stuff when Dad died, loads of old (still very useable) tools and lots and lots of tins Still have all the tools and I appear to have added to them rather a lot

Must resist the urge to visit tool shop

K, you are my hero , you are the Barbara Cartland of the org., you almost had me in tears in your grandads shed.

Originally Posted by oldjack

K, you are my hero , you are the Barbara Cartland of the org., you almost had me in tears in your grandads shed.

Um... do you want to re-phrase that slightly - I can assure folks that there were never any nefarious goings on in my Grampy's shed...

... now in my Dad's, that was a different story!