Monday, November 16, 2009


As I labour on semi-successfully in the vineyard (aka The Workshop) I briefly dallied with the idea of maybe cleaning up the god-awful mess on the workbench to make things run a tad smoother. A little more production, a little less "Where's the blank-blank-blankety-blank chisel gone now? I only put it down a moment ago" if you will. Then I remembered I was going to need some brass and thought it just as well I hadn't tidied up.

I know, terrible innit? That's why this blog is called musings from the workbench, and not profound thoughts. Arguably it should be changed to musings & terrible puns from the workbench... Actually it's not the mess on the bench that's the problem, it's remembering where I keep things. The less-than-unified method of tool storage employed by yours truly is coming back to bite me in a big way just now. Yesterday I spent ten minutes trying to remember where the hell I kept my screwdrivers. Still haven't the faintest idea; had to resort to fetching one from the house. Oh deary me.


  1. Alf,
    Your not alone in losing the screw driver, spent time over the last 3 weeks looking for a particular one, not a sign of it. Found in under the shavings in the turning tool bag, yesterday, of course I was looking for something else at the time.

  2. do you only have one workshop and one house? If so shouln't be a problem. Can you imagine what expletives are uttered when one has to go from the house, to the barn, to the garage and then the box of precious bits under the bed cos everywhere is too damp to keep them, only to find said screwdriver a week or so later in the car - and I had to search two of them!


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