During the time I was struggling with tennis elbows, I haven’t done any woodworking.
It’s been a while now that I’ve been able to work again, but my focus has changed. Now I’m focusing more on combining Matilda’s ceramics and my woodworking, my own art pieces and bespoke furniture. I’m not taking on new commissions or outside work. And on a practical level, most of my time after recovering from my injuries, has been spent working on the chapel.
Against that backdrop, restoring some furniture that have been brought to me at the onset of my elbow troubles, is a swan song of sorts. And I’m glad these pieces in particular are part of that song.
The 130 year old toddler bed especially, is quite interesting. It has served a grandfather, father and a number of brothers of the current generation during their early years.
It was made in the 1890’s by a cousin of the great grandmother, who was pregnant at the time.. This cousin was a big game hunter, who had just returned from a hunting expedition. He made the bed and shortly afterwards left on the next trip. It’s uncertain whether he has made other furniture in later years.
The bed itself is a strange combination of good craftsmanship and bad design. It’s almost too delicate for a toddler bed. The main weakness is the way the beautifully turned legs were attached to the bed. It was destined to fail. I was therefore surprised when it was brought to me with only one leg missing. It must have happened with the previous generation, because the current owner remembers him and his brothers sleeping on this bed that was propped up at the one corner with a stack of bricks.
I’ve turned a new leg, went over all the joints and strengthened all the legs with gussets at the points of attachment. Then I applied oil all over.
I’ve always found the restoration process so intriguing, even mysterious. Here I’m reaching over a piece of furniture, more than a century old, shaking the hand of an eccentric craftsman. A man shooting big guns and making a delicate bed for children.
We never know how we leave a legacy in the things we make.
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