Out With the New, In With the Old

We joke with friends that the only modern things in our house are the TV, washer/dryer and the microwave.

Our air conditioner is from 1980.  Works fabulously and we have it serviced every year.  Our stove is a Chambers 1951 model.  Our lamps are all early 20th century.  You get the message.

I bought a funky table at an auction with a bum leg.  The table had the bum leg--not me. (grammar police!)

It is well made--heavy oak and from a gas station in central illinois.  It held the old brass cash register--great patina and finish--would be perfect as a lamp table on a porch or den.  But it had this bum leg--shorter than the others with a bit of rot.  It made sense to saw the other legs to even it out.  Makes it a better height anyway.

Where is the saw?  If you saw our garage you would understand why I could not find it.  But I did at last.

 My husband's hand saw that still has the bar code sticker on it.  I measured the legs--twice, marked them with pencil, and started to saw.  Piece of JUNK. Huge piece of junk.

Then I remembered I have inherited my grandfather's tool chest.  And it is full of my grandfather's and great grandfather's tools.  I dug around and come up with with this hand saw.  Huge.  Fits really well into my hand--The blade has some paint spatters and some surface discoloration.

Like cutting through butter.  Each pull was smooth, accurate, not bendy. Then I notice two initials stamped into the handle.  WW.  This isn't grandpa's saw, it is not even great grandpa's saw--it is GREAT GREAT grandpa William's saw.  William--born in 1855.  Now in 2014, it is cutting the legs down on my table.

Mission accomplished.