Never underestimate aunts; just ask Bertie Wooster. Unlike Mr Wooster though, my aunts have tended to be fairly pleasant coves and one has outdone herself this week. A parcel from same arrived in the post yesterday, and unwrapping it revealed to my wondering eye the following:One virtually pristine No.260 tape measure by Rabone & Sons.
In its slightly battered, but rather fetching original box.
All complete even unto the care instructions.
Wow. I mean wow. But that's not the best bit by any, um, measure. No, sir. 'Cos this well-cared for tape belonged to a Master Plasterer from Southampton; none other than my Great Grandfather. I had assumed all his tools were long gone - and indeed, all the others are - but this one survives. Result!
Plus I got a little extra history about him as a bonus. Apparently he did the ornate plasterwork for Rothschild's house at Exbury. Rothschild? Heck, he must have good at his job, methinks. Gotta say that's a heck of a better legacy than the one my generation will leave. "What did Great Grandpa do? He was an accountant..."
Anyway, two other things beyond "This is pretty cool" struck me. Firstly, the irony that a tool has been handed down the female line. Secondly, that maybe not all white spots on old tools are paint. Maybe some of them are plaster...