March
18, 1998
Winter
is not my favourite season. It
was the end of January and I needed a winter break.
I began to think of Nova Scotia.
Why
Nova Scotia? my friend asked. You
should be going to Mexico. True,
I thought. Mexico is one of my favourite destinations.
But then I thought I'd try to get her to see it my way.
She went on to suggest London. Why
not London? You know, a weekend
in London. Theatres, restaurants,
lots to see and do ... this would make sense.
But Nova Scotia? in
winter?? You're joking.
However,
my friend also knew that Nova Scotia is really a favourite destination for me. And, in addition, there was a course being offered in
woodworking, just on one weekend in February.
It was being given in Nova Scotia.
Woodworking?
Yes.
Woodworking is my hobby. It's
growing on me, and I wanted to learn a lot more about it.
This particular course, which was being offered by the Avon River
Heritage Society (ARHS) was about how to build a chair, without any nails or
other modern fastenings ... as in the Early American traditions.
I have been interested in these traditions for the past several years.
Knowing this, my family has for several past Christmases and birthdays,
given me some really great power tools, and I have been gradually learning the
right way to use them.
The
course advertisement said, "Build your own first chair.
One that you can use. It's
traditional and beautiful. This
is NOT beyond your capabilities!" For
years, while collecting and reading books and magazines on the subject, I
never thought I could be able to do something as complex as build a chair.
I
was hooked.
The
man who gave the course was Alex Mosher, a resident of the area where the ARHS
is located. Alex builds, all by
hand, beautiful reproduction 18th and early 19th C. Nova Scotian furniture.
Even so, I could not imagine building anything as complex as a chair
without power tools. I thought that all woodworking required power tools.
So then when I saw the list of tools required for this project, I was
puzzled. Spokeshaves.
A good whittling knife. A
draw knife, and more of the same. I
didn't even know what some of these were.
I did feel a little bit better when I found that the people who work in
hardware stores weren't too sure either about some of these tools.
After
checking with the Museum and discovering that they would be able to supply
some of the tools, I went shopping for the rest before departing for Nova
Scotia. I had asked the Museum to
reserve some of the tools for me.
Two
weeks later, I was on my way to Nova Scotia.
I had to carry my newly-acquired hand tools with me as carry-on baggage
to the plane. So when I went
through the airport security the guard was alarmed.
Was I carrying a knife, he asked.
No, I had only the mortising chisel, the mallet, my try-square, and a
sliding bevel. I was getting to
be an old hand at carpentry. The
guard let me through, but only after carefully examining all the tools.
We
took off. Down below was an
endless expanse of white land as we passed over it.
Just before landing in Halifax, the Captain told us about the weather
in Nova Scotia, and it was going to be a lot colder for the next few days.
I
am enamoured with Nova Scotia. For
me, it is God's country. Whenever
possible, I rent a car to drive up and down through those countless winding
country roads ... the Highways and Biways, as the old driving maps of Nova
Scotia were titled. I love to
amble through the many towns and small communities with their old, white
framed houses and churches. Pine
woods cling to rocky land. The
Nova Scotia atlas of country roads that I use takes me to the most marvelous
places. I enjoy rambling quietly
through rural areas without any particular destination in mind.
Driving
at the end of the day, in a brilliant sunset, is especially rewarding.
The ribboned roads, with their gently swaying clumps of wild grasses
casting warm shadows on the shoulders. Then
up off the roads, gently rolling green hillsides dotted occasionally with
white church steeples. All these
images, and more, give a special calmness about the countryside.
I
was met by Alison, my sister-in-law. Often,
when I come to Nova Scotia, she and I will go driving off together, to shop,
explore, or just enjoy one another's company.
Her husband, Hugh, refers to us fondly as two 'Irish Setters', after
the two gorgeous copper-coloured Setters he and Alison have owned for years.
These dogs are great explorers, and love to put their noses to ground,
wag their great bushy tails, and charge off into the distance without a care
in the world.
But
this time, it was a cold, grey mid-morning in February, so Alison and I went
in search of a good, warm cup of coffee.
This was welcome: why is
it that airline coffee is consistently bad?
In twenty years, and more, I have traveled on half the world's
airlines, and I have yet to drink a really good cup of coffee.
Today,
we had only one day to visit and explore:
the next two days were going to be very busy for me, as I'd be taking
the chair-building course.
The
next day, we arrived at the Museum quite early.
It was still very cold, but inside there was a great wood-burning stove
already making snapping noises as the wood caught, and in the Tea-room, at the
back of the Museum, a cheerful fire was blazing in the big open fireplace. And scattered about the open instruction area were several
electric space heaters. It all
was just barely enough to raise the room temperature to a reasonable level of
comfort. Thank goodness there was
an unlimited supply of fresh, good, hot coffee throughout the day.
The
class itself was of a good size -- there were eight of us.
Alex Mosher was there to greet us, and help us get organized. A big, friendly man, with a calm, quiet self-confidence in
himself and his craft. He was
more than willing to help, and provide gentle advice throughout the entire two
days. He gently guided us through the intricate, but cleanly logical steps of
chair-building in the old-fashioned way.
For
me it was great, and gave me a special satisfaction.
No noise, no dust. The
draw knife and spokeshave were at first total mysteries, but after Alex showed
me how, I had the greatest satisfaction in having mastered them and their use. At first, I was a little hesitant to ask Alex about how to
use the drawknife, and which side of it I should use. In his own quiet way, he explained it thoroughly so that I
could understand it, and at no time did he make me feel foolish.
I learned a lot in those two days.
I learned about wood, and wood grains, and tools, and yes, at the end
of the second day, I had a chair! Which
I had made.
He
showed us how to make the seat of the chair, and explained that there were two
separate possible seat designs. One
was a solid piece of wood, which we all made in class.
The other was to have the seat woven.
As I disassembled the finished chair, making it ready for taking aboard
the plane, I decided I would rather have the woven seat, and determined to
make it after I got back home.
The
support in the Museum was wonderful. They
offered hot, homemade lunches both days.
These were cheerfully and pleasantly served in the "Planters Tea
Room", which is a part of the Museum.
To sit in that cozy Tea Room, next to its roaring fire, and watch the
gorgeous view of the tidal bore rushing out, was a very welcome bonus. I gorged myself on thick fish chowder and salmon quiche. And
to top these off were sinful desserts and lots of hot coffee.
It
was a wonderful winter break away from the normal stresses of life.
Thanks
to everyone at the Avon River Heritage Society for putting a little sunshine
into my winter.
