Childhood Memories of an Artisan

My grandfather, Frank Miller was a woodworker, a prolific creator. 

I have early memories of him going down to his workshop in the basement right after breakfast and not seeing him until he was summoned for lunch with a bell at the bottom of the stair that rang when a line was tugged from the top of the stairs.

Oh, how I longed to go with him to that mysterious place. But, with all the power tools and other dangerous equipment, it was determined that I could not join him until I reached an appropriate age. I remember my excitement when that time finally arrived. I sat on a high stool, trying to contain myself for fear of loosing my newly obtained privilege. He puttered about the labyrinth of power tools lit with a series of lights that were connected by string so he didn't have to look for a switch. He would reach up and tug the line to light his way before entering the next room.

Our family has numerous boxes with compartments, furniture, and other items he designed and fabricated. Perhaps his most prized creations were two model sailing ships. The first, shown when it was completed in the photo above, was in full sail. 

 

The detail is amazing, though through the years it has weathered considerably and accumulated a good deal of dust. It now resembles more of a ghost ship than a ship shape seaworthy vessel.

The second a clipper ship, The Flying Cloud, has been lovingly refurbished and encased in glass by another model ship enthusiast. 

These two ships have been fixtures in our family home for as long as anybody can remember. Like all things, the passage of time has taken it's toll on the original splendor of his accomplishment in completing them. I imagine he was quite pleased with them at the time.

But I've always had the sense that he truly enjoyed the process. For him it was perfectly fine, even normal, to be so absorbed and focused on the thing you were doing that you needed a startling reminder it was time to take a break for lunch. I can identify with that, because I'm guilty of it. 

Guess the acorn doesn't fall far from the tree.