Monday, May 16, 2005
Miles and miles of stuff
I took Friday off and Gina and I went to The Brimfield Fair. 3 times a year, the town of Brimfield transforms into an enormous tag sale/flea market/antique show. This things stretches for a few miles right down the middle of the town.
Gina had been a few times before, but this was my first time. We got the kids on the bus, hooked up with our friends Julie and Marty (who were going to follow us), and headed southeast. It was cold, sunny and breezy - good walking weather. We're driving east on Rt 20 (the old Boston Post Road), come around a bend and suddenly there's people and stuff everywhere. We park in someone's yard for $3, and set out.
Man, oh man - never before have I seen so much stuff. A surprising amount of it is not crap. Lots of repro antiques (apparently barn stars are a hot item, 'cuz they were everywhere). Lots of interesting salvaged architectural pieces, like cornices. Some old dogs sleeping under their master's chairs, waiting to be patted or get treats. Nice old (or old-looking) oak furniture. We walk and walk and walk.
I'm on the lookout for old tools. I like old Stanley metal handplanes. I find a few knock-offs in sorry sorry shape. I find a true collector with a wonderful stall full of rare and beautiful models, all well out of my price range. We have a nice chat anyway - turns out he knows a guy I've bought a few planes off of on the web over the years (Patrick Leach, who has written the definitive tome on Stanley planes - Patrick's Blood and Gore).
In one stall I see a few old handsaws. I've been growing interested in older handsaws, so I look them over. I see one name I recognize - Disston, and look it over. It is in pretty good shape - blade is straight and reasonably unblemished, with a nicely etched maker's mark. The price is $15, which is a good price. I offer $10 just for form's sake - it is declined, and I pay the $15.
(Later, I do a web search on the model - D15 - and find it is indeed a good saw. Found info here. I suspect mine is a D15 blade with a #15 handle.)
We stroll some more, and I see another stand with a box of really beat old saws, for $3 each. I find one that looks not too rough, and pay my $3. Later, when I have it at home, I find it is a Simonds - another good old saw mfr.
More strolling. Gina still hasn't bought a thing. Temps are chilly when in the shade, but nice when in the sun. We stop for lunch, bypassing the trailers hawking kielbasa grinders & roast beef in favor of some homemade chicken salad sandwiches. More strolling. I'm amazed at the quantity & diversity of things we see, and we haven't seen a tenth of what's there. Gina chats with a couple who've been doing this for 35 years. They say back "in the day", no one had campers, everyone slept out in tents and stayed up selling, shopping, and carousing until 1 in the morning. They look pretty happy.
Getting on towards 2:00 and we need to be home for the bus, so we pick up the pace. My tool-sense starts to tingle, so I follow it to a small-ish stall with a beautifully cleaned-up Stanley #6 (corrugated). Someone had really spent time to clean this up - the brass shone, the wood gleamed, and the blade bevel was polished like a mirror. I chat with the very nice lady running the stand and pass my compliments on to the reconditioner. Turns out to be her hubby who is an ex-machinest and makes his own knives. She shows me one - just beautiful, and $350 (yikes). The plane is $68, but she takes $60. I have some buyer's remorse afterward, but it is really in excellent shape and better than anything I could buy new.
So at the end of the day I'm out $80 but have 3 new toys, Gina has spent nothing, and we both had a great time.
Gina had been a few times before, but this was my first time. We got the kids on the bus, hooked up with our friends Julie and Marty (who were going to follow us), and headed southeast. It was cold, sunny and breezy - good walking weather. We're driving east on Rt 20 (the old Boston Post Road), come around a bend and suddenly there's people and stuff everywhere. We park in someone's yard for $3, and set out.
Man, oh man - never before have I seen so much stuff. A surprising amount of it is not crap. Lots of repro antiques (apparently barn stars are a hot item, 'cuz they were everywhere). Lots of interesting salvaged architectural pieces, like cornices. Some old dogs sleeping under their master's chairs, waiting to be patted or get treats. Nice old (or old-looking) oak furniture. We walk and walk and walk.
I'm on the lookout for old tools. I like old Stanley metal handplanes. I find a few knock-offs in sorry sorry shape. I find a true collector with a wonderful stall full of rare and beautiful models, all well out of my price range. We have a nice chat anyway - turns out he knows a guy I've bought a few planes off of on the web over the years (Patrick Leach, who has written the definitive tome on Stanley planes - Patrick's Blood and Gore).
In one stall I see a few old handsaws. I've been growing interested in older handsaws, so I look them over. I see one name I recognize - Disston, and look it over. It is in pretty good shape - blade is straight and reasonably unblemished, with a nicely etched maker's mark. The price is $15, which is a good price. I offer $10 just for form's sake - it is declined, and I pay the $15.
(Later, I do a web search on the model - D15 - and find it is indeed a good saw. Found info here. I suspect mine is a D15 blade with a #15 handle.)
We stroll some more, and I see another stand with a box of really beat old saws, for $3 each. I find one that looks not too rough, and pay my $3. Later, when I have it at home, I find it is a Simonds - another good old saw mfr.
More strolling. Gina still hasn't bought a thing. Temps are chilly when in the shade, but nice when in the sun. We stop for lunch, bypassing the trailers hawking kielbasa grinders & roast beef in favor of some homemade chicken salad sandwiches. More strolling. I'm amazed at the quantity & diversity of things we see, and we haven't seen a tenth of what's there. Gina chats with a couple who've been doing this for 35 years. They say back "in the day", no one had campers, everyone slept out in tents and stayed up selling, shopping, and carousing until 1 in the morning. They look pretty happy.
Getting on towards 2:00 and we need to be home for the bus, so we pick up the pace. My tool-sense starts to tingle, so I follow it to a small-ish stall with a beautifully cleaned-up Stanley #6 (corrugated). Someone had really spent time to clean this up - the brass shone, the wood gleamed, and the blade bevel was polished like a mirror. I chat with the very nice lady running the stand and pass my compliments on to the reconditioner. Turns out to be her hubby who is an ex-machinest and makes his own knives. She shows me one - just beautiful, and $350 (yikes). The plane is $68, but she takes $60. I have some buyer's remorse afterward, but it is really in excellent shape and better than anything I could buy new.
So at the end of the day I'm out $80 but have 3 new toys, Gina has spent nothing, and we both had a great time.
Monday, May 02, 2005
Same road, same car, different world
My brother Ben is building a deck off of his house. He hasn't done it before, and I've built a few, so he asked if I'd come out and help with the first big step - getting the ledger attached to the foundation. After a series of intense negotiation sessions with wife and family, I agreed.
Sunday morning, 7:00 am and it is really really foggy. I had planned to take the Miata and take the scenic route through the Pelham foothills to 202, then wind past the Quabbin resevoir to Rt 2 East - a much prettier drive than taking the Mass Pike and fighting it out with tandem tractor trailers. However, with fog and rain on the way, the truck/Pike looked more practical. To heck with practicality - I took the Miata.
A Miata with the top up at speed is kind of like riding in the back of a pickup truck, inside a tent. The top rattles and shudders in the wind. The interior is noisy and booming. It's clear that the car was designed to have the top down, with top-up motoring being the exception. I persevered, buoyed by the prospects of a sunny drive home (if the Weather Channel could be trusted).
Arrive at Ben's and spend the day installing the ledger (which was a big fat pain in the a**). 3:30 arrives and I gotta go - Gina's got plans for the evening and I need to be Papa bear while she goes out.
However, it's still cloudy and threatening rain (it had rained on and off all day). Reluctantly, I set off with the top up again. I go about a block before I pull over, drop the top, say a silent dispersal charm to the clouds, and set off.
There's something to be said about a positive attitute. By the time I get to Concord, I get my first beam of sunlight. By Leominister, it was more frequent. By Gardner, it was unabashedly sunny. It was still cold, but I turned on the heat and aimed it at my hands and feet, and sailed along, feeling like I was the only one truly appreciating the change in the weather. I arrived home cold and wind-blown, but 100% satisfied.
teebee
Sunday morning, 7:00 am and it is really really foggy. I had planned to take the Miata and take the scenic route through the Pelham foothills to 202, then wind past the Quabbin resevoir to Rt 2 East - a much prettier drive than taking the Mass Pike and fighting it out with tandem tractor trailers. However, with fog and rain on the way, the truck/Pike looked more practical. To heck with practicality - I took the Miata.
A Miata with the top up at speed is kind of like riding in the back of a pickup truck, inside a tent. The top rattles and shudders in the wind. The interior is noisy and booming. It's clear that the car was designed to have the top down, with top-up motoring being the exception. I persevered, buoyed by the prospects of a sunny drive home (if the Weather Channel could be trusted).
Arrive at Ben's and spend the day installing the ledger (which was a big fat pain in the a**). 3:30 arrives and I gotta go - Gina's got plans for the evening and I need to be Papa bear while she goes out.
However, it's still cloudy and threatening rain (it had rained on and off all day). Reluctantly, I set off with the top up again. I go about a block before I pull over, drop the top, say a silent dispersal charm to the clouds, and set off.
There's something to be said about a positive attitute. By the time I get to Concord, I get my first beam of sunlight. By Leominister, it was more frequent. By Gardner, it was unabashedly sunny. It was still cold, but I turned on the heat and aimed it at my hands and feet, and sailed along, feeling like I was the only one truly appreciating the change in the weather. I arrived home cold and wind-blown, but 100% satisfied.
teebee
