In our new life, I plan to make more time for spoon carving.
I’ve done a bit in the past, but my tools are now in France so I’m itching to get back to them.
Spoon carving is not and never will be a job for me. It’s a craft, or maybe a hobby; an alternative to television that’s infinitely more engaging and rewarding. It’s a great way to pass a winter evening by the fire, or a summer evening in the garden.
With a small hatchet and a couple of knives that I’ve learnt to sharpen myself, I can turn a branch into a tool. And in doing so, I can show my son something of the real value of human time. The pure economic madness of carving your own utensils is itself a challenge to the madness of ‘pure’ economics. Because time is not valued only in terms of money. In carving spoons (or other utensils for that matter) there is experience, history, skill, resilience, self-satisfaction, art, relaxation, meditation, utility, exercise (mental and physical) and the ever present chance of cutting off your opposable thumb if you don’t pay the job enough respect. I concentrate when I’m coding websites, but never like I do when I’m swinging an axe to carve a spoon.
One day I hope to be as good as this:
This learning is not to be rushed.