I've often thought that I inherited my crafty desires from my Mom. And there's no doubt that she had a lot to do with it. She was always doing something: sewing, counted cross-stitch, painting, stamping, knitting. More recently she has turned her interests to sculpey clay and doll making which combine a lot of elements of the previous crafty things. And, of course, her daughter is trying to get her back into knitting.

While I was home for Christmas, I had another realization that I should have had a long time ago. My Dad is a pretty crafty guy, too. I've always considered him a wonderful photographer. When I was little I was fascinated with the darkroom he set up in our basement. In addition to his interest in photography, he made some wonderful stained glass pieces, including a Tiffany-style hanging lamp that he actually restored after a house fire.

And all while I was growing up my dad was doing projects that involved wood working -- at one point, he remodeled my mother's entire kitchen in oak. I think it's fair to say that the older I got, the less room there was in the garage for vehicles. Instead, it housed power tools of all varieties, a table saw, a planer, a drill press. A whole collection of "man toys" whose quality evolved with my dad's skills.

When my parents built their dream home, it's probably no surprise that it included a workshop -- or that my dad built most everything in the interior of the house -- from the plumbing to the kitchen cabinets and including some gorgeous mosaic tilework in the master bathroom depicting wood ducks in flight. I came home from my first year of college and helped install wood flooring and bathroom tile and his handmade kitchen cabinets (I stay away from power tools... some of us don't have enough hand eye co-ordination not to be dangerous to ourselves and others with anything more powerful than a cordless screwdriver).

Needless to say, it's a pretty special house.

When I went to grad school, my dad built me some beautiful oak pieces, one of which includes the small dining room table that now serves as my desk (whenever you see an oak background in one of my pictures, you can see that desk). When I split up with a guy I am lucky to not have married, my dad made the most beautiful coffee table for the wonderful couple who shared their home with me for a few weeks while I found a new apartment -- to help me say thank you for their kindness.

Yes, I do know that I have the world's greatest Daddy. But somehow, I never saw him as a crafter. I don't know if it was because his creative hobbies were man oriented or if it was just that it was so much a part of him that I just couldn't imagine him not doing it.

But then last spring he got his lathe. Wood turners, I think, have a lot in common with knitters, except for the issue of sawdust. He's been building up his "wood stash" -- all of us knitters should be glad that you don't have to age our wool several years before we can use it and that we don't need a pickup truck to bring it home -- and building his collection of the lathing equivalent of Addi Turbo needles. And he's been making beautiful things.

Turned Lovliness

This is a small sample of what he was working on when I was visiting at Christmas. The piece on the far left in the front is a set of stacking boxes, the two walnut pieces and the light colored piece behind the boxes are meant to hold knitting needles and crochet hooks. The small cherry piece in the center is meant to watch a ring or two while you wash dishes or cook. You can get a better look at it in the picture below.

Little Containers

The stacking box above was made when I asked him to introduce me to his lathe and how he used the different carving tools. He just set up a piece of wood and then asked me what I wanted it to be. I'm a little box-aholic, so it wasn't hard for me to pick. Can you believe that its the first set of stacking boxes that he ever made? He just made it happen as I watched. Needless to say, it was inspiring.

Something about lathe work is just magical. I could have watched him all night. I think that's about the time when the two ton block hit me in the head and I realized that my Dad has had as much to do with my desire to make things with my hands as my Mom has. I just never saw it because what he was doing was never something I could see myself doing. I could definitely imagine myself working with a lathe.

The next time I go back to Ann Arbor I'm hoping to get to go from watching to doing. I'm going to get lathing lessions from my very crafty and creative dad. I'm hoping that maybe I can do something simple like a nostepinne. How cool would that be?

I think I feel another pair of socks coming on....