hammer obsession

Hammer of Thor

Made from Purple Heart and Hard Maple. Feels good in the hand

When I was 2 years old, I could be found on any given day, walking around the yard with a hammer in my hand. We lived in a tiny one bedroom apartment on a side road in Oak Ridge, TN. There were 4 apartments per building there; the two in the center were two story, two or three bedrooms (don’t remember) and the ones on the ends were the little one story one bedroom. That’s where we lived. I think my dad made $86 a week at that time (1967). Even back then it wasn’t very much. But I had my hammer…

One day I wandered into one of my neighbors apartments where my mom was hanging out, having coffee or something. I decided it would be interesting to see what the hammer would do to a glass top coffee table. I have no memory of the event, but I can only imagine the satisfaction of the shattering glass and the horror on the faces of the adults in the room.

To this day, I love hammers. I cannot go into a hardware store without ogling them, touching them and have to restrain myself from buying one. But now I can make them. And the wooden mallets I have begun to make really satisfy the inner 2 yr old. I hope they satisfy something in you too.