Gifts of the Handy

I am not the most handy of people, but my father might be.

For over thirty years he fixed Xerox machines, from tabletop units to commercial book-processing units.

He built the second garage, fixes his own car, and has built any number of things.

In retirement he's been a Habitat for Humanity site leader and for fun he picked up blacksmithing as an extension of the welding and metalworking he'd done for years.

Whenever we visit, he invites my kids to take on a project. This summer he had some old fire extinguishers for them to work with.

Secondborn made this firefly--the yellow is a glow-in-the-dark paint. The wings are metal from a discarded electrical box and the legs are nails.

Firstborn made this fallen angel--the wings were cut from a dulled and discarded saw blade.

The projects are done, carefully wrapped, and packed up for our journey home. They will find a new home, either near the flying pig secondborn made last summer, or out on the patio they helped us create in March.

But first, the long drive home.