By ANN WORTHINGTON

How often these days do we see people whittling? Back in the day, that seemed to be a part of my dad’s, brothers’, and grandpa’s pastimes.

I remember so well seeing my dad and granddad sitting on our porch making what my mom referred to as a “mess;” however, they were in their glory as they took a plain old stick and began to slice down with the name brand knife known as the “Barlow.”

They thought this to be the only knife that would make a huge pile of wood shavings in record time and it seemed that each of them tried to whittle more than the other.

Sometimes they even tried making different types of figurines but I can’t remember ever seeing them accomplish this task. Nevertheless, they enjoyed trying.

I used to sit for what seemed like hours watching them propped back in to what we referred to as a stiff chair, which was simply a regular chair with four legs, and whittle. I thought the shavings were so beautiful as they covered the floor in circles, curliques and all sorts of shapes.

I used to pin them in my straight hair for blond imaginary curls. How I wished the curls were real. I also thought the shavings from the wood stick produced a wonderful, clean, aroma, which was like therapy to me.

Many important discussions and decisions were made by my relatives sitting there among all those old wood shavings. Not only business was discussed, but jokes and hearty laughter were enjoyed as father and sons enjoyed an afternoon of fellowship.

Today, I see carving knife sets in stores and recently our son presented his father with a beautiful set of carving knives. They will carve even the most intricate and delicate objects one can imagine and I’m looking forward to receiving a lovely figurine soon.

I had better not hold my breath until this happens, though, because you’ve heard of the shoemaker’s wife. I fit that category; however, I can’t complain because our home is full of much-cherished pieces of furniture designed and made by my husband. I just have to tease him a little to hurry him along on a yearlong-awaited project.

My friends, I really get lonely sometimes just thinking about my parents and how I wish I could visit with them just a few more times but I know I’ll have that chance one day.

Until next time, my friends, I hope you cherish your memories as much as I do. It is my prayer that God will bless each of you in a special way, and as always, be truly blessed.