A treasure trove of historic hand tools

Normally, I'm not the "read a waiting room magazine" type, but the other day I picked up an issue of Maine Ahead, which I'd never heard of. Having written a bit about and researched green building, trends and technology, the cover story on the attainability of sustainability was just too interesting to ignore.

I never got to that cover story. As I flipped through the pages, I came across a photo that stopped me, and made me want to devour this article on the Davistown Museum. Thanks to the museum, historic tools don't die. They find a home in a cozy, out-of-the-way Maine town called Liberty.

For H.G. "Skip" Brack, the museum is a labor of love. In addition to building, collecting and curating the vast array of tools in the "An Archaeology of Tools" exhibit, he owns Liberty Tool Company, which is - naturally - the museum's sponsor. That he also happens to be an expert on historic tools is apparent in the wealth of informative publications and essays he's written. You can read essays on the website, and publications can be purchased online or at the museum.

The museum's mission is "the recovery, identification, evaluation, and display of the hand tools of the maritime culture of coastal New England from the first European visitors in the 16th century to the fluorescence of the Industrial Revolution." The collection also includes Native American artifacts, "accidental durable remnants of ancient peoples," old paintings and artwork by some well-known Maine artists like Albrecht Durer and Milton Avery.

At some point, I plan to make the two-plus-hour pilgrimage to the museum, but for now I'll have to be content to live vicariously through the museum's site. I strongly encourage you to do the same.

Three-plus years later ...

Our long drywall repair nightmare is over.

As you may remember, I started fixing my very rough (i.e. "good enough") drywall job on my daughter's bedroom doorway a couple Fridays back (read the back story here). After that, time and my daughter's illness forced me to take a step back. I was able to get my final coat sanded, but painting ... that was a different story. Imagine my shame every time I walked past that joint compound-decorated doorway.

Finally, last Friday, I finished - paint and all.

Using a drywall sander that attaches to the vacuum cleaner, I was able to contain most of the dust from that project, but I wasn't naive enough to think I was able to completely eliminate it. Those tiny, pesky bits of drywall dust are still in the air, looking for somewhere to settle down and make themselves at home. After lots of cleaning and vacuuming, I'm confident that 95 percent of it is gone now.

Unfortunately, the paint we had stored in the basement was mixed in a different batch than the paint that was already on the wall, meaning there was an ever-so-slightly difference in the tint. Fortunately, I only had to paint the wall in question. Unfortunately, that's one of the longest uninterrupted walls in our home.

Two coats later, I'm very happy with the results. If you compare the above photo with this one, I'm sure you'll agree that my pride in a job well done is justified.

Third time's a charm?

Do you love mudding and sanding drywall as much as I do? If you have even a passing interest, then yes you do. But hey, you've gotta do what you've gotta do, right? Such is the glamorous life of a handyman - accidental or otherwise.

This afternoon, I'll be sanding down a thick layer of mud I put around a door frame last Friday. This will be the third time for this particular door frame, and the first in more than three years. See, we had the huge bedroom space in our loft split into two rooms just before our daughter was born. When all was said and done, the doorway to her room was about about three inches higher than the one to ours, which wouldn't have been a big deal if they weren't so close together. As an added bonus, the opening was too tall for the reclaimed school doors we'd bought.

With time running short, I needed to get the walls painted and the tracks and doors hung, so rather than wait for someone to come and lower, drywall and sand it, I took on the task myself. I know, it's still slightly higher than the other. But the cork floor in our daughter's room is slightly higher than the bare concrete in ours, so it works. Plus, the door fits, so I can live with that small detail.

Getting the edges as sharp as the other (professionally-done) frame has been a different story. After two tries, the edges and wall above the door were still a little rough but good enough, so we painted.

Three-plus years later, "good enough" isn't good enough anymore. That door frame mocks me every time I pass by (even in the dark). Last week, I tackled the interior side - which wasn't nearly as rough to begin with. And while it still needs a good painting, it's smooth and the edges are pretty sharp, and I'm happy with it.

Bolstered by that success, part of me is looking forward to this afternoon. Part of me is dreading it. One more unsuccessful attempt just might put me over the edge.

Stay tuned for the results, and wish me luck. I'll probably need it. Badly.