Kohart Hands

This is Mandy, writing...again!  After a hiatus due to another pregnancy, some family illness, and now a new baby, I am back helping my Dad again.  Whew, where to start?  I've wanted to share some thoughts that are always tender to me as I welcome a new baby into our family.  July 3rd also marks 6 years since my Grandma Hazelton's passing (my Dad's mom).  She has been on my mind.

My Grandma Hazelton was a talented lady.  She took painting lessons with her oldest daughter after Grandpa passed away and quickly developed a wonderful skill for it.  She had a few of her paintings hanging in her home that I remember seeing growing up.  One of them was of this lonely looking “soddie” on the plains of Kansas.  Her Kohart great-grandparents had come over from Germany in 1872 and trekked west to try to tame the treeless lands in western Kansas.  Without a supply of lumber, they resorted to making bricks out of mud and grass and building sod cabins.  In these humble and challenging circumstances, my ancestors staked their claim in Kansas. 

My Grandma was born in this little soddie and spoke German until she started school.  She was a quiet and stoic woman who didn't have a bone her body to complain or feel sorry for herself.  As I read Willa Cather’s “O Pioneers,” I felt a love for this part of the country that I had never appreciated before.  I identified with the characters and loved how Alexandra could not leave when everyone was deserting the land.  She stands on the edge of their land and sees something there that not many seem to see.  She has a vision of what could be and somehow that makes her love what is there.  No matter the challenges of working that land, she is compelled to stay and bring her vision into fruition. 

I recognize that same willingness to forego comforts and ease in the present in an effort to build toward a vision of better things.  My great-great-grandparents who left Germany left behind a comfortable life.  As I thought about what must have compelled them to leave, and to leave with Sophia 8 months pregnant for a 3-month voyage by ship, I started to piece together the vision that must have kept them moving and working.  In exchange for their comfortable life, they embarked on a difficult journey that would mean foregoing their lifestyle forever.  Their hope was laid up in store for generations to come.  Me.  My children.  Their hands dug in that sun-baked earth and their skin wore the leathery hardness of work for my day.  They traded their comfort for my freedom, for land and chances and choices. 

My Dad has often quoted this thought, “If I have seen far, it is because I have stood on the shoulders of giants.”  In quiet moments, thinking of these good people, I think of what I owe them.  And I hear a whisper, “You are not your own.”  This thread of looking to the future with a vision of better days, of sacrificing now to offer up a gift to posterity, has been passed down by more than genetics to my Dad and then to me.  I love to hear stories of him working alongside his Dad and his Grandpa Kohart.  He smiles as he relates their lessons to him—lectures given by hard working hands more than by words.  Often, he would simply hear, “That ain’t sanitary, boy!”  Translation: that’s not the way we do things—we work in a way that when we leave, it’s better for those who come along after.  And now, when my daughter is working hard alongside me, I whisper to her the treasured compliment my Dad once gave me, and she smiles.  “You have Kohart hands.”   

Custom Cradle

I recently made a custom cradle for a customer on etsy.  I wanted to highlight this piece, as it is a bit different than what I've offered so far.  I do enjoy this kind of finishing, although it is not my first choice.  I enjoy so much the beauty in a piece of wood and love to work and create a flawless finish to highlight the grain.  This customer wanted a distressed finish, which honestly took me outside of my comfort zone.  It ended up being a good experience for me and I'm grateful for the exercise.  Unfortunately, these pictures don't show the antiquing as well as I would like. 

The cradle is maple with walnut rockers.  

I did a paint grade finish with an enamel, heirloom white paint.  The antiquing was done with a pigment glaze

and then mildly distressed.

With this antiquing finish, this cradle already looks like an heirloom and will have the quality of finish that will last for years to come.  

Generations of Craftsmanship

Mandy, again, blogging for my dad.  

In my living room hangs a leaf that my Grandpa Hazelton carved before I was born.  Etched in the back, it reads "Hazelton 1967."  

In fact, in the home of every one of his children and grandchildren hangs one of his leaves.  They formerly hung in my Grandma's house--it was always just Grandma's house to me because Grandpa died about a year and half before I was born.  I remember knowing, as a small child, that when I married and had my own home, I could pick one of the leaves.  That felt like eons away!  

What a tender moment, as my husband and I opened our wedding gifts, to see this leaf nestled in between some beautiful bath towels that my Grandma had crocheted a lace border onto.  This leaf was the first thing we had to hang on our walls!

This is the leaf hanging in my parent's living room.   When Dad's dad realized he was dying and knew he wouldn't be around to meet many of his grandchildren, he thought of this project.  I have wondered often of the thoughts he must have mulled over as he sat carving.

I think it is natural to wonder how you will be remembered.  To review your life and, with full recognition of all of your failings, hope that the good in your character will be remembered.  I appreciate the kind of patient, skilled craftsmanship that went into these leaves.  Grandpa Hazelton did a lot of carving and other woodworking.  As the years pass, the former years seem sweeter and those heirlooms of his craftsmanship seem more precious.

A Visit Home

It's Mandy, posting for Dad.  Honestly, I get to do everything on the computer.  My Dad is amazingly talented in the shop and loves working out there.  The computer, however, is not one of his preferred tools.  I have no talent in woodworking, but enjoy being on the computer...so there you go!  It works!

As I've worked on this blog (and dad's etsy site), the fact that I live two states away from my parents is often an obstacle. I wish I could just zap myself to Kansas and snap some pictures, then do the blogging.  As it so happens, I did a sort of 5-hour airplane "zap" and got to visit recently.  

My parents live in a Victorian home that they are continually "beautifying."  I think that there is something that my dad has made in every room.  I stayed in one of the upstairs bedrooms, which happens to be the home of my dad's chess table.  

 As I sat, in a quiet moment with my baby, I marveled at the kind of craftsmanship that goes into everything my dad makes.  

My experience working in retail and our recent quest for new dressers gave me an appreciation for my dad's work.  It struck me that the principles that govern my dad's work (see the Bridge Builder poem in the side bar...) are at least as important the skills he has worked to hone.  He doesn't do anything halfway.  

Dad's hat rack is a good example of this.  My pictures didn't have great lighting, because I just snapped them quickly when the baby was napping.  I wish you could see the beautiful the grain in the wood.

Dad needed a place to hang his hats and he had some space in his office.  He could have just gotten by with a functional, quick fix but instead he created a solid and beautiful hat rack.    

As Dad consented to open up a shop on etsy, we've had long talks about what he envisions happening, what products he feels good about offering and how we could communicate all of that over the computer. 

I have appreciated hearing my dad articulate the kind of values that inform his work as I get everything up and going online.  I have a few other pictures of his things from around the house that tell more of that story, and I will blog about those in the coming weeks.  It has been an enjoyable journey to reminisce over these creations of my dad's that just mean "home" to me.

"Where we love is home.  Home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts."
-Oliver Wendell Holmes

Living Room Tables

This is Mandy, guest blogging for my Dad to show off the tables he made for me.  He is so modest about how much work he puts into his projects (and his skill level) that I felt the need to do some bragging on him!  He makes living room tables for each of his children around a certain birthday that I shall not name (and give away my age).  He also made tables for my mother--and each style is carefully thought over to reflect our individual taste.  Dad had me and my husband looking through furniture books to see what we liked.  It was a my first glimpse into the amazing world that my Dad is an expert in...I didn't know much about the genres and styles of furniture.  And beyond being grateful for the education, I started to become immensely grateful to see how much work my Dad put into his project for me and how much he has taught himself over the years.  I realized that this work he does is more like art than mere construction. 

The first thing I picked for my tables was this beautiful granite.  I love white oak with it's distinctive wood grain and warm color.  Both of these were accented by my Dad with beautiful chestnut burl veneer with walnut bun feet.  I also loved the turned legs and curved lines, which fits in so well with our other decor.

This side table has the same style of turned legs on a taller scale, which I love.  These side tables have cherry bun feet that also accent the other wood choices and even pick up the colors of our wood floor. 

I couldn't have been more thrilled with how the tables pulled together the furniture and colors I was already using in my home.  My sister-in-law commented that it was like I got new "antiques" when she saw the style my Dad captured for me.  I know about how he sands and finishes--and then sands and finished again and again--the wood so that the finish is perfectly smooth and durable enough to  heirloom. 

My Granddaughters Get Their Big Horse

My daughter posted videos of her little girls getting the big horse I made for them.  Here is a link to those videos:

http://clarkefamilyof5.blogspot.com/2011/01/girls-get-big-horse.html

Snapshots of the Horses

A shot of the big horse on the work bench.  Pictures really cannot do justice to these horses. 

This is the big horse again.

The light of the Christmas tree warms up the horses.  This shot shows the comparison in sizes of the original small horse and scaled up larger horse.

This view of the big horse shows off the beautiful wood grain.

A beautiful pair of finished horses.

This grouping of both sizes and different wood types shows off the beauty and warmth of these heirloom horses.