"Okay, we'll use that!"
"Uhh... Okay. We can do that."
The woodshop is where many generations have crafted the replacement planks for docks and buildings, forged iron hinges, repaired caned seats, and every manner of repair imaginable, often completed to unnecessarily fine detail.
Small lads can cut a line steadier than one expects when using a coping saw. A pencil line makes a good guide. The gratification of a rasp, a file, and a few planers comes easily to new woodworkers.
Young hands learn the joy of concentration and the pleasure in craft of using hand tools. Chisels and a club mallet make a straight line, even though they were new to him.
Fitting the mallet head and driving the wedge in elicit young smiles and reward the patient planing and (well-supervised) chiseling.
A rag of Minwax and the summer sun cure the creation. Here, it rests on the bench we made in ten minutes using a bow saw and a hand auger. The mallet spent hours cracking acorns, smashing ants, "cidering" crab apples, and pulping weeds.
A sail towards the swimming island where we anchor astern and tie the bow ashore to jump off the high sheer rocks, my bare nancy feet griping about the granite during the first two days.
Water sparkles with sunlight from lunch until sunset, and on the VERY rare morning when the water is not glass-smooth, Jr. and I enjoy the opportunity for a six o'clock sail in the rainy gusts while others sleep.
One never outgrows a love for water, and a restless thumping in the chest propels adults of all ages to climb to the top of the granite edge and leap into the clear deep, feeling the water in the nose and bubbles past the face that haven't changed since the first life-vested panic-filled jump as a tot. I use the same words of encouragement this year for mine (from the lower ledge) and the giggle is distinct when the heads surface, gasping with surprise and relief. Boys and girls of summer. They are full steam until the dinner spread, with a thirty second transition to twelve hours of snoring, and only then do I uncork the bottle. Other boats appear at the dock, and friends stroll up to the house with their bottles and a years worth of news to share.