My paternal grandmother kept for decades a tattered scrapbook of poems she had clipped from magazines as a girl in a little coal mining town. Later in life, she and my grandfather would visit nursing homes to offer some entertainment and comfort to the residents. He played tunes on the harmonica, she read poems aloud. Not at the same time.
Often, when a poem I’m reading strikes me, I jot it in my notebook. A couple days ago, it was a poem by Michael Chitwood, and I thought I’d share it. Nobody wants to hear me play the harmonica.
David Fisher, Carving Explorations 
Hi Dave
Nice poem. Do you write poetry? If you do we would love to here some of your poems.
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About as well as I play the harmonica.
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Ah, but the music that comes from your knife!
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Very nice and I like the illustration. Sounds like you play the harmonica the way I play the piano.
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I watched a gang of kids in Mexico doing this as they loaded bricks into a truck, about 4 or 5 at a time. Each toss was perfect, the bricks clamped and heaved as a group so that the catcher could receive them as a block and put them in their proper place. They were clearly enjoying both their skill, and the opportunity to display it. Work and beauty both.
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That’s lovely, Dave — I think I like your cartoon even more than I do the poem. Thank you for reminding us to marvel at all our everyday world!
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so that’s where your interest in poetry comes from–nice–
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I will admit, not the waste of ink that most poetry is.
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My grandfather threw rivets at the Cathedral of Learning in Pittsburgh. My vague understanding, from my father’s description, is that he was doing something like the bricklayers in the poem, but at great height; throwing molten metal blobs to riveters working a floor above him, who would catch the metal blobs and slap them in place before they had a chance to cool. When he proposed to my grandmother, she answered, only if you find another job. (He did.)
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Wow! Thank you for sharing that story. I love the Cathedral of Learning, and wrote a post about it back in 2016: https://davidffisher.com/2016/09/17/if-yinz-are-ever-in-pittsburgh/
Next time I’m down there, I’ll look way up and picture your grandfather tossing red hot rivets way up there!
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Filing email tonight and ran across this post. I try to reach one. Thanks for sharing this one. I’ve collected quotes since 8th grade. As a fellow woodcarver and a carousel historian here is one of my favorites.
“The cure to boredom is curiosity. There is no cure for curiosity.”― Dorothy Parker
Pat
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Opps, spell check got me…..should be read!
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I like that, Pat. Thanks!
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