I love tools. My father, being an oil painter as well as a carpenter, built a room on to the house I grew up in (when I was about 3 years old), to use as an art studio and also added a "utility" room for his tools. So through my entire life until my early 20s, if I wanted a hammer or file (-or band saw!), all I had to do was go to that utility room. I didn't leave my parents' house until my wedding day, and never thought about the tool room....UNTIL one day I needed a file or a hacksaw or something, and we HAD none! Hey!? We didn't have one HACKSAW between us? I was dumbfounded. No longer could I go to that room and grab whatever I needed (and there was definitely none in our 2 bedroom apartment!)
This is MY cake batter!
So we purchased a few as we went along, borrowed the bigger stuff from Dad or some other friend or relative if we needed it, and for many years, the Xmas list (for me) always included one or two tools. Dad would inevitably ask, "Oh, Steve wants a cordless drill?" "No, I want it!" "Oh, Steve needs a Dremel tool?" No, it's for MEEEE!" "But - you're a GIRL...!" (Dad was old school - women just cooked and had babies)!
So i finally accumulated enough hand tools to make me feel somewhat less like i lived on an island with no provisions.
But just recently, we are facing the hard truth that my dad may not be leaving the nursing home he's now in, and his house may have to be sold in the forseeable future. Among all the angst and problems related to that, one question is starting to cross my mind....
"What in the hell am i gonna do with all those tools?!"
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