An ancient rattles on.
I was quite concerned when I read the title of the post above – the stable keg had taken a battering; you know how it goes. The afternoon was spent ‘finishing’ a piece of furniture. I can’t believe the amount of man hours poured into making a thing like that. The timber arrives in ‘a lump’ eight foot long, 2 foot square and rough as a Badger’s proverbial. Then it waits, when dried enough it is cut, milled and then sized – eventually, with nothing more than hand planes and hand saws. Then boards for panels etc. are made then jointed, these are first ‘squared’ using hand planes. I counted 36 individual, hand cut frame joints made by surgically sharp chisels; over 100 dovetail joints each one carefully tailored. Every joint carefully measured then ‘made’ with no more than mallet, chisel and handsaw. I never knew it, but, in the ‘raw’ the whole thing needs a light sanding; to remove the pristine, shiny finish left by the tools – it actually needs to be roughed up a bit to accept a ‘finish’. And so, the afternoon began; roughing up the work, no sharp things needed, just a wooden block and some Garnett paper – only natural that an ale should be poured during such a relaxed time. And so it was, ale was consumed as the hours passed, the ‘Shellac’ dried and the conversation wandered over a range of subjects.
I do try not to get too involved with the ‘push and shove’ of the 370 story; but, we occasionally chat about it, particularly Australia’s part. The Pel-Air debacle left the sour taste of suspicion behind it and when Dolan became ‘the man’ it was a difficult subject to avoid.
I have worked out why, for me at least, the whole MH 370 thing offends so deeply; it is a simple matter. Myself and ‘the lad’ hale from a long line of ‘drivers – airframe’ with deep roots in the past. I also know that had it been my command, then the search would never, not really, ever stop until my bones were parked ‘under the spreading Chestnut tree’ and proper fare thee well’s had been muttered. Were it one of mine who had that command, that day, I would spend such time as the gods granted me, searching for ‘mine’ so as to ensure they did, eventually, in spirit at least; come safely home.
World peace through a downed airliner? Blimey. That whimsy will create many a ‘booze fuelled’ debate; but, under laying, that which is the age old, time honoured, airmen’s tradition should be honoured. “K” was not asking for world peace – but would be prepared to promote world peace as a valid reason to bring fellow airmen home; to bid them ‘God-speed’, in the proper manner. That being ‘we’ know what killed them and can take steps not to loose too many, that way, ever again.
Here I sit at my truly beautiful desk, surrounded by a life time collections of ‘technical’ manuals and such other wonderful books I have been able to hold; all parked on book shelves made by the same hand which ‘created’ this remarkable desk. Were it my son, my friend; or, even my enemy, would I want the search to continue?
What a bloody fool question that is; and, damn them as asks it.
I was quite concerned when I read the title of the post above – the stable keg had taken a battering; you know how it goes. The afternoon was spent ‘finishing’ a piece of furniture. I can’t believe the amount of man hours poured into making a thing like that. The timber arrives in ‘a lump’ eight foot long, 2 foot square and rough as a Badger’s proverbial. Then it waits, when dried enough it is cut, milled and then sized – eventually, with nothing more than hand planes and hand saws. Then boards for panels etc. are made then jointed, these are first ‘squared’ using hand planes. I counted 36 individual, hand cut frame joints made by surgically sharp chisels; over 100 dovetail joints each one carefully tailored. Every joint carefully measured then ‘made’ with no more than mallet, chisel and handsaw. I never knew it, but, in the ‘raw’ the whole thing needs a light sanding; to remove the pristine, shiny finish left by the tools – it actually needs to be roughed up a bit to accept a ‘finish’. And so, the afternoon began; roughing up the work, no sharp things needed, just a wooden block and some Garnett paper – only natural that an ale should be poured during such a relaxed time. And so it was, ale was consumed as the hours passed, the ‘Shellac’ dried and the conversation wandered over a range of subjects.
I do try not to get too involved with the ‘push and shove’ of the 370 story; but, we occasionally chat about it, particularly Australia’s part. The Pel-Air debacle left the sour taste of suspicion behind it and when Dolan became ‘the man’ it was a difficult subject to avoid.
I have worked out why, for me at least, the whole MH 370 thing offends so deeply; it is a simple matter. Myself and ‘the lad’ hale from a long line of ‘drivers – airframe’ with deep roots in the past. I also know that had it been my command, then the search would never, not really, ever stop until my bones were parked ‘under the spreading Chestnut tree’ and proper fare thee well’s had been muttered. Were it one of mine who had that command, that day, I would spend such time as the gods granted me, searching for ‘mine’ so as to ensure they did, eventually, in spirit at least; come safely home.
World peace through a downed airliner? Blimey. That whimsy will create many a ‘booze fuelled’ debate; but, under laying, that which is the age old, time honoured, airmen’s tradition should be honoured. “K” was not asking for world peace – but would be prepared to promote world peace as a valid reason to bring fellow airmen home; to bid them ‘God-speed’, in the proper manner. That being ‘we’ know what killed them and can take steps not to loose too many, that way, ever again.
Here I sit at my truly beautiful desk, surrounded by a life time collections of ‘technical’ manuals and such other wonderful books I have been able to hold; all parked on book shelves made by the same hand which ‘created’ this remarkable desk. Were it my son, my friend; or, even my enemy, would I want the search to continue?
What a bloody fool question that is; and, damn them as asks it.