time to think

Raise your hand if you have a workshop, someplace you can go inside or near your house where you can putter, slap a shelf unit together, saw wood to make a birdhouse. If you do, I bet you raised your hand in an orderly, confident, calm, cheerful, thoughtful manner because a workshop is often the place where one develops those fine qualities or characteristics.

["I open my shop door with a youthful sense of anticipation"]

I can't think of a time when I was unhappy to open my workshop for a few hours or for the day. What once was a dark hole (a narrow, backyard, 1920s garage with a dirt floor) is now a place where I can measure and saw and sand and hammer and build. It is especially a fine, (often) quiet and warm place to think. And I believe everyone on earth needs time to think each day... deeply, for extended periods - backward, forward, sideways.

["I'll add a slat roof of barn board or cedar"]

My wife and I visited my son in Fenelon Falls  recently and the thing I missed most about home was my workshop. Fortunately I had books, a notepad and pens with me, so I read, wrote notes and sketched future 'shop projects' when free time was available.

Now I'm home and turning rough sketches into barns for birds. I've turned the shop heater on low and both ends of my body - my feet and gray matter - are warming up.

["The twins found my notebook, added several sketches"]

Those without a workshop should at least keep a notepad handy. Sketch a shop, list things to build. Think about a time to think.

Photos by GH

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