Artisan in Wood
Uncle
Ronald knows a might bit about wood.
He
used to spend hours and days willing wood into heirlooms in his shop
next
to his Eastern Kentucky home near the creek at the foot of the mountain.
Trouble
was, once he made something for a family member, everyone wanted one.
So,
he became good at reproducing his original designs.
I
tell folks that I live in the Ronald Perkins Wood Museum.
We
have a Ronald Perkins crib, a Ronald Perkins coffee table, a Ronald Perkins
TV table,
a
Ronald Perkins settle, a poplar bench, paper towel holder, napkin holder,
and
golf ball collection holder.
I
cherish them, not only because they are quality pieces made from beautiful
native wood,
but
also because they contain the soul of the man who crafted them.
They
will be passed down from generation to generation,
including
the stories about the man who made them with his hands,
the
place they came from, and why they were made.
Uncle
Ronald doesn't work with wood anymore.
His
legs just won’t carry him across the courtyard to his shop.
So
he sits atop his covered porch and looks across the way towards his wood
shop and remembers.
When
I visit, I sit with him and feel his pain.
"Old
age is not for sissies," I lament, getting closer myself.
Memories
fill me and make everything okay.
I made
a print of this barn door for Uncle Ronald.
He
liked the print, but couldn't imagine why someone would put a maple board
on an oak door.
"Looks
pretty, though," he said.