Simple Gifts

By Bobby Neal Winters

My current woodworking project is the construction of a “Shaker” cabinet.  I’ve gone and put quotes around the word Shaker there. It is because I am not a Shaker.  If you are not aware, the Shakers are (are, not were, there are still a couple) a religious sect.  

They are a branch of the Quakers.  They are not just nice people who make quality Olde Style furniture. They’ve got their own hymns.  If you’ve ever heard the song “Simple Gifts,” you know one of them.

They have a theology that seems kind of weird to me.  On one hand, they are egalitarian and give equal status to men and women; on the other hand, they don’t have sex and as a consequence don’t have babies.  This is why there aren’t many of them left, and why not very many want to join them.

Even though I do find them odd, I do respect them. I do find parts of their practices worthy of emulation.  They believe in simplicity, beauty, and excellence as a part of their devotion to Jesus Christ. I like that.

So when I say I am making a “Shaker” cabinet, what I mean is that I am making a cabinet using solid wood--no plywood because it is deceitful--using only hand tools as much as possible.

I have used power tools for certain things.  I started off with construction lumber from Home Despot [sic].  I used my table saw to recut it, rather than using a hand saw.  My table saw still makes straighter cuts than I do.

I then used my DeWalt planer to smooth it out.  I am still putting together a collection of hand planes and--more importantly--still learning to use them.

But I’ve been cutting my dovetails, cutting my dados, and cutting my grooves with hand saws and chisels.  I’ve been shaping my panels to fit into the dados and grooves with rasps and hand planes.

It takes time.

It would all definitely be faster if I used my router table to cut the dados and grooves. It might even make a better end product. And...wait for it...it might even make a less expensive product.

But that is not the point of this activity for me.

My goal is to learn a skill--a skill set, rather--and to use that skill set to make something beautiful.

I’ve been making boxes for a while now. I’ve gotten better at it. I’ve made some boxes that are beautiful from the right angle, beautiful from the right perspective.  I am improving.  I’ve not made a perfect box, and I never will.  What would that even mean? But I need a break from boxes so I can use my techniques on something else in order to grow a bit.

As I mentioned earlier, I am using construction lumber that I’ve recut, resized, and remilled.  It is not the prettiest wood in the world. Indeed, at one point, I became discouraged that, however well I might do my joinery, it might all be for nothing because the wood was just ugly wood.

Then something happened.

I did a dry run on putting it together, which is to say no glue. When I took it apart, I decided to rub it down with boiled linseed oil.

Oh, my. What a difference.

The oil made it shine, of course, but it also accentuated the grain of the wood. It allowed me to see how smooth my plane work was, how straight my chisel cuts were.  I could see some mistakes I’d made better, as well, but in a way to highlight this was handworked by a human being who was made in the image of God.

Once the pieces were oiled, I set them aside so that the oil could soak-in overnight.  I might have to apply another coat today.

Putting the finish on takes time.  It takes an hour and three days.  What I mean is that it is about an hour of work total, but because of drying it must be spread over several days.

When I am done with this cabinet, I will look it over, find someone to give it away to, and then start on another one using better wood.  I’ve got some cedar; I’ve got some walnut.  

We shall see.

'Tis the gift to be simple, 'tis the gift to be free /

'Tis the gift to come down where we ought to be, /

And when we find ourselves in the place just right, /

'Twill be in the valley of love and delight. /

When true simplicity is gained, /

To bow and to bend we shan’t be ashamed, /

To turn, turn will be our delight, /

Till by turning, turning we come 'round right

Bobby Winters, a native of Harden City, Oklahoma, blogs at redneckmath.blogspot.com and okieinexile.blogspot.com. He invites you to “like” the National Association of Lawn Mowers on Facebook. Search for him by name on YouTube.

 The Phoenix and the Other Side of the Ashes

By Bobby Neal Winters

A Phoenix is reborn out of its own ashes.

I’ve been thinking about this image, this symbol, as our own civilization goes to ashes. I’ve also been thinking about what it means for the world to come to an end.  What is the End of the World?

The world ended twice every Sunday for a while when I was growing up.  The Last Trump was going to blow (hmmm); Jesus would Rapture his people to heaven; there would be seven years of Tribulation; then Jesus would come and establish God’s Kingdom.

And I believed.  I was terrified, in fact.  What if the Trump sounded and I was left behind to go through The Tribulation alone?

I remember one occasion when I was by myself, and I heard something like a trumpet sound multiple times--it could’ve been seven times.  I was all alone. Alone, out in the country. I was sure my whole family had been raptured away.

Turns out, I hadn’t actually heard a trumpet.  It was a bull talking to his harem.  If you say that a bull doesn’t sound like a trumpet, well...I’d never actually heard a trumpet before.  Anyway, the family got back from buying groceries...or wherever...and my heart started beating again.

Let’s return to the question stated near the beginning of the article: What is the End of the World?

In recent history, Science has come in with certain end of the world scenarios.  The Earth could be hit by a planet-killing asteroid.  It would pierce the atmosphere; send up a plume of ash; bring on an ice age. There would be starvation and war.  Nations would fight for an increasingly limited number of resources until those nations were no longer able to fight.  They would themselves dissolve leaving their citizens as roving packs of animals, fighting for the last crumbs of food.

Rapture before The Tribulation doesn’t look so bad now, does it?

If it's not an asteroid, it could be a Supervolcano. 

Or the CO2 in the atmosphere tips us into a runaway greenhouse effect.

I think the Biblical idea of the End of the World is less final, more hopeful than any of the scientific ones. 

The Biblical idea is tied up with a new beginning.

While it’s not a Biblical image, the Phoenix is an excellent metaphor. Let’s compare it to the biblical story of the Flood. In that story, the world ended; they took just what they needed to start over; then they began again.  God gave them a new covenant.  

The survivors brought a new way of doing things to the new world.

So--even though it was water that destroyed things--the Old World turned to ashes and the New World was born from within those ashes.

Right now--even as the world comes apart--the seeds of the new world are already there. 

Someone is asking, Okay, Bud, what are they?  What are the seeds of the future?

The simple thing to say would be that the seeds are our children.  People would nod and smile; they would take the cliche; they would put down the paper and go on with the rest of the day.

But it’s not that simple.  

Our world is made of people but that’s just a part of it.  It’s the connections between people.  We are connected to each other; we are connected to our families.

We are connected to the past, bringing traditions from our parents, but we are guardians of the world for our children.

Let me shift metaphors again.  We are a tapestry.  We are woven from threads that go not only around the planet, but through time--into the future and into the past.

Those who survive will be the children of those who taught them best how to survive, how to live, how to flourish.

Look around you now.  You can probably see them even if you can’t recognize them.

Oops.  I hear something blowing. See you on the other side of the ashes.

Bobby Winters, a native of Harden City, Oklahoma, blogs at redneckmath.blogspot.com and okieinexile.blogspot.com. He invites you to “like” the National Association of Lawn Mowers on Facebook. Search for him by name on YouTube.

Parallelograms, Taxes, and a General Rant about the Decline of Civilization

 Parallelograms, Taxes, and a General Rant about the Decline of Civilization

By Bobby Neal Winters

There’s a meme that goes around on social media.  There are variations of it, but it goes something like this: “Why did we waste so much time learning about parallelograms when we could have been taught how to do our taxes.”

If I’ve learned one thing from the Internet over the last 25 years or so, it’s that you aren’t going to change the people’s minds who post this stuff by arguing with them directly.  The ego gets involved, and there are very few people--very few--who have the strength of character to say: You are right; I am wrong; I will change the way I am thinking. (Those who do have that strength of character will win the big game in the end, but it comes at the price of eating a little crow in the meantime.  But I digress.)

There is a larger issue here, but I will deal with the details of this particular meme.

First off, we really don’t waste a lot of time learning about “parallelograms.” I assume they really mean the subject of geometry, and that referring to “parallelograms” is simply a way to trivialize the subject.  Geometry is useful. You need geometry to build buildings.  While there is a lot of stuff taught in a geometry class that can’t be put into direct use measuring, the total knowledge imparted is scaffolding for the knowledge that will actually be used. 

Knowledge is connected together like the two-by-fours in the framing of a house. Each piece helps keep the others in place.

Second, this is not an either or situation.  I learned about geometry in school and I learned how to do my taxes in school.  I did this in different classes. Mr. Sloan taught me geometry; Mr. Scott taught me how to do my taxes.  It may have actually been during the same year.  But it was in different classes.

So the meme presents us with what is known as a false dichotomy. (I sometimes get accused of making my readers run for the dictionary, but I am just repeating that this is not an either or, but in more pompous language.)

I’ll now give the creator of the meme a little credit.  As I shifted “parallelograms” to “geometry,” let’s now shift “doing taxes” to “financial literacy.”

It only took Mr. Scott a few class periods to teach us how to do our taxes. (We were only plain,country folk. There’s not much to learn when you don’t have money.  If you do have that much money, maybe you ought to hire someone to do them.) He also taught us how to write checks, the difference between a debit and a credit, and the basics of bookkeeping, as it was a course in bookkeeping.)

Having now spent about 500 words to refute 21, let’s get down to the real question: The state of education as a part of the state of our civilization.

Education starts in the home.  When a woman with her man has a baby, that is the beginning. That is the foundation of e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g. What happens within that family unit, and family units collectively, determines what happens in our civilization.

At one point, we had a system where woman and man would stand before God in the presence of their families and loved ones, and pronounce their lifetime commitment to each other. They would then begin to build a life together as a partnership.   As a natural part of that partnership, children would arise, and the children would be cultivated, groomed, and generally prepared to enter into the world.

This still happens sometimes, and when it does you can tell the difference, but too often the children are--I was going to say treated as pets, but you train pets to some degree--treated as some wild animal that just turned up at the door: they throw food at them occasionally and just hope they grow up.

Raising a child is a hard thing, especially if you do it by yourself. But here’s the thing: You are part of a family.  If you have a committed relationship, you’ve got a partner.  If that commitment was made in front of your family, you are a part of a family. If it was done in a church, synagogue, mosque, or temple, then you are part of a community. You don’t have to be alone.

But if a child has a good start at home, the rest is easy.  We can learn about parallelograms and taxes. It can be done.

Bobby Winters, a native of Harden City, Oklahoma, blogs at redneckmath.blogspot.com and okieinexile.blogspot.com. He invites you to “like” the National Association of Lawn Mowers on Facebook. Search for him by name on YouTube.

 NALM and changing times

By Bobby Neal Winters

We come to April and the season for mowing has begun.

Well, it has kind’ve/sort’ve begun.  The sun is up higher in the sky. It’s getting warmer. Saint Patrick’s Day has past; Spring has arrived; we’ve celebrated Easter; but the season just hasn’t hit its stride yet.

According to the ancient fonts of wisdom, this is because we’ve had a dry winter.

And that is true.  While we’ve had some rain recently, I’m told that if you dig down beyond the surface the ground is dry.

As of this writing, I’ve only mowed once and only part of my holding.  I’ve done the perimeter of the backyard.  For some reason, the “grass” around the perimeter of the backyard grows more quickly than the rest of the lawn. I’ve put quotes around the “grass” in that last sentence because it’s not grass strictly speaking.

My lawn in an amalgam of plants native to this region of the world.  They are survivors of the plains and prairie.  These plants are what remains after multiple attempts at murder by a brutal climate.

The plants around the edge of my lawn have learned that if you don’t get in your licks early in this part of the world, you might as well forget it.  Summer’s gonna kill you.

And I mow them down.

It just doesn’t seem right, does it?  But it is the way.  Maybe, by dent of evolution, they will eventually learn to duck.

By the summer, it will eventually settle down and look like a normal lawn, but my days of a peaceful membership in NALM (the National Association of Lawn Mowers) may be in jeopardy.

There is new leadership in NALM.  Previously, there had been tolerance for a lawn like mine. In the far past, it was a cheerful tolerance.  There was a memory that at one time all lawns were like mine: mown weeds.

But we’ve got a new breed of leadership coming into NALM. They’ve got their studies, their models, their ideas of the way a lawn is supposed to be. Their ideas come from the theorists, theorists who’ve gazed at their own navels for incomprehensible periods of time, thinking about the “Ideal Lawn.”

They believe a lawn can be more than what it has been.  We simply have to organize it in the right way.  Letting it proceed organically just isn’t good enough. There has to be design; there has to be a plan; mowing your weeds just ain’t gonna cut it.

So to speak.

There have been fads coming through before. Ambitious leaders with agendas have come in before.  Leaders promoting edging; leaders promoting pavers; leaders promoting watering, plugging, reseeding.

In response, we’ve edged for a while; we put in a few pavers; we watered a while and reseeded. (They never got us to plug.) But after a while, they’d put some items on their CVs and went away, and we proceeded in our own organic way: keeping what worked, and forgetting the rest.

We’ve worked with the grass God has given us, and we’ve made it look better than anybody ever thought it could.

This feels different.  Something might have to give this time.

While a higher percentage of NALM members are keeping up the NALM standards, there have been a stream of members opting to leave. Most people who mow their lawns today don't belong to NALM. It’s just too much of a headache. They do as they please. They don’t choose to benefit from the advice that NALM has to offer.

The lawn world is becoming like Israel during the days of the Judges, everyone does what is good in his own eyes.

There is benefit to your lawn from being accountable to others, to interacting with peers and gaining insights from them.

Therefore, I continue with membership in NALM even though the winds seem to be changing, even though I am old and NALM seems to be going in a direction away from me.

My lawn is not what it could be, but it is my lawn. I will look at the suggestions NALM sends my way, and I will make the best use of them I can. But my lawn is what it is. Henbit and dandelions need a home too.

And we could use some more rain.

Bobby Winters, a native of Harden City, Oklahoma, blogs at redneckmath.blogspot.com and okieinexile.blogspot.com. He invites you to “like” the National Association of Lawn Mowers on Facebook. Search for him by name on YouTube.