Two hours measuring and sketching. Three hours drafting. And those legs aren’t supposed to meet like that.
Now I’m looking around for a glass of Stone Old Guardian, which will make me forget this ever happened.
— Christopher Schwarz
The always-industrious Mary May has set up a special website where you can get updates on her forthcoming book, “The Acanthus Leaf: A Rite of Passage for the Classical Carver.”
Simply go to acanthusbook.com and you can sign up for the e-mail updates.
Mary has turned in a completed sample chapter with illustrations and photos and things are looking very good. We’re not exactly sure when this book will be released, but we’ll let you know as soon as we have news.
— Christopher Schwarz
The writer of a popular tree book once stated that the white pine of our northeaster States was destined to disappear except for ornamental purposes. There are many reasons to believe that that time will never come, yet the nature and habits of the tree and the shortsightedness of the people make the statement more than a mere suspicion.
Not a great many years ago within the white pine region, there were magnificent stands of old growth pine. Every old inhabitant today will tell you how they stood on his father’s farm when he was a boy, their clear, straight trunks and gnarled flat tops high above everything else. Many an old house back in the country has floor boards and cupboard doors that are more than three feet wide which were made from such trees.
These old monarchs of the northern forests are gone now, except for the isolated trees or clumps scattered widely over the region. A woodlot owner recently guided me several miles back into the hills in order to point out three magnificent pines which have been standing probably for more than 250 years. One could never mistake them from others of a later generation.
The woman who indulges in carpenter-work seldom does much harm. She contents herself with trying to drive nails into the wall, and with experiments with mucilage. She drives her nails with great caution, and when she has loosened an inch or two of plaster she becomes alarmed, and resolves to let her husband assume the responsibility of inflicting further injury on the wall.
She has a profound faith in the value of mucilage as a substitute for glue, and hopefully attempts to mend china and furniture with it; but mucilage is as harmless as it is inefficient, and it is only on the rare occasions when it is used to mend the wheels of the clock that it does any permanent injury to anything.