Yes, my shop is being
reworked yet again. For those of you who know me it may seem like I
spend more time reorganizing my spaces than working in them. And
that is a fair judgement. Some of that is because I face very
specific challenges in any workshop. For those of you who don't
know me, I'm small. My partner likes to describe me as “all of
five foot nothing” but he is being generous. By several inches. I
don't know my exact height out of spite. It is the question I am
asked most often bar none “How tall are
you?” I am slightly taller (maybe a quarter of an inch) than my
mother ever got to. But she carried herself better. I am somewhere
just under 4'10” ish. I think. But I know I don't reach the lofty
height of 5'.
So yes, nothing is the right size for me. And it makes it harder
than I realize. I have always just adapted, no big deal. Except
that it turns out it is a huge deal sometimes. The first time my
partner saw me work he was amazed that I managed to get anything done
at all. By that time I'd been smithing a few years and had my own
setup for a couple of years at least. It was all stuff I'd managed
to procure with the help of friends, and cobbled together in my city
backyard. I'd adjusted what I could, but I didn't have a chainsaw
and wasn't going to buy one just to cut down the stump my anvil sat
on. I dug stuff in a bit where I could, and it seemed to work
alright.
My partner, Darrell Markewitz, is an excellent teacher for all
things smithing and history – particularly of iron and Viking Age,
and iron smelting / experimental archaeology - especially as it
relates to the Viking Age. He is one of a small handfuls of teachers
I would recommend if you are interested in Blacksmithing – and he,
in particular tends to focus on body dynamics as it suits the
individual. He is not a great bear of a man himself, though he is
tall (especially compared to me). He was constantly told he could not do this because his build
was too light. Long after many larger smiths had dropped out due to
injury he is still going. He has figured out a thing or two.
Needless to say, when he first saw me working he was (slightly?)
appalled. I scoffed a bit and said it was fine. Not just a bit of
my attitude comes from trying to prove that I can carry my weight,
and yours (once upon a time, literally) in spite of my size.
When
we (many years after we initially met – probably more than a decade?) ended up together and I
ended up moving here to Wareham, he was determined that my shop would
fit me better. So that was one thing. And it did. It fit me
better than it ever had before. But I knew that I still didn't know
enough to know what I wanted it to be.
How I was really going to
work in the space. What I really
needed
rather than just thought I wanted. So it has remained a
semi-permanent space that is somewhat less cobbled together. I
argued to keep the dirt floor that I had so carefully dug all those
damn rocks out of (though inevitably more appeared with the frost
heave, but less, and much slower.) It was a better fire retardant, I
didn't have to worry about dropping things on the floor or things
cooling on the floor. I could dig things in a bit, mold the floor a
bit, change things with ease.
All those points were true. I have now opted for a wooden floor,
level, predictable, less inviting to the cat and other wildlife. I
suspect it will be a bit warmer (a very tiny bit). Also easier to
move heavy equipment over without a corner suddenly digging in, or a
rock saying hello. Also better for keeping the equipment that is not
in constant use (like my awesome stakes) in better condition because
even if it is on the floor it is not in the dirt and significantly
less damp.
As
I mentioned, when I initially moved in in 2014, (or sometime shortly
after I moved in) before any of the equipment went in, I dug into the
floor somewhere between 18-24 inches removing all the significant
rocks I could find. Many of these were a tad large (like the size of
a milk crate) and there were even more that were head sized (mine),
fist sized (not mine), and a lot of large pebbles, with even more
small pebbles. I did what I could to tamp all the dirt back down and
level it, but you can imagine that with my great weight that wasn't
the best of jobs. In the intervening years the floor has decided on
its own unique character, changing every year, or every month, or
every day. Equipment that was leveled on bricks and blocks and such
has slowly sunk, inevitably crookedly, and in need of constant
readjustment. So, I changed my mind about the floor. And that was
the 2nd
of the big undertakings of this shop renovation. (Well, truth be
told, he did the framework for the walls before he started the floor,
but that was a bit less of a big deal apparently.)
The first? Emptying the shop of all that equipment and stock. I am
very grateful to Darrell for undertaking this while I was still
working over the winter. His argument was that he had to do it a)
because he is bigger than me and b) he needed it to get moved in such
a way that he could still get at everything he needed to elsewhere in
the shop. I am somewhat ashamed to say I didn't put up much of an
argument.
Incidentally, Darrell has undertaken pretty much all of the
construction work with some minor help from me. (For example, I
helped to level the dirt floor again for the stringers that run under
the floor.) His argument (again?) - He is taller than me. It is, I
am slowly being forced to admit, a valid argument. I am learning,
after decades of being on my own and making do, that my size does
actually sometimes make things harder. I am learning to accept help
without it feeling like I have to do it just to prove I can. And I
am incredibly grateful for the opportunity to struggle less. Maybe
that is the real first big job, but that one is mine alone.
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