[Warning: this post takes a hard turn in the middle… it just happened. You have been warned.]
About a year ago I acquired an old bucksaw. I estimate it’s about 100 years old, though I can’t be sure. It has no particular value. (Old bucksaws aren’t rare and they’re functionally the same as a bow-saw which can be purchased new for $20 or less.). The one I had was rusted and unusable. Everyone hangs them on the wall as decoration.
I don’t roll that way.
I declared it worthy of restoration. After a few false starts where I over-analyzed the situation with saw-blades , I finally decided to punt: I swapped out an $11 replacement I got on Amazon. Voila, a saw that’s as good as new (if a bit heavy). Here’s the links:
- Old Timey Saw Blade
- Old Timey Saw Blade: Part 2
- Old Timey Saw Blade: Part 3
- Old Timey Saw Blade: Part 4
- Old Timey Saw Blade: Part 5
- Old Timey Saw Blade: Part 6: SUCCESS!
Before:
After:
The thing with a bucksaw is you might as well have a sawbuck. Yep, those are two words that legitimately mean two different things. (They were parsimonious with their vocabulary back then.)
A sawbuck holds the wood so you can efficiently use your bucksaw. This is the sawbuck I built:
The design and assembly is dirt simple. Though I did get the idea from here. I don’t think you need to drop $20 on a set of “plans” (I didn’t) but if you’re going to build a sawbuck, go ahead and click over there. They did a good job with the instructions and deserve as many hits as I can send their way.
As you can see, I used pressure treated green wood. I think this was unwise. It might make it last longer but it also made it heavier. If I did it again I’d use regular kiln dried studs and try to protect it by slapping on a coat of whatever paint I’ve got lying around (every garage has a couple cans of old house paint). Then it would be lighter but still rot resistant. Definitely treat it with something or it’ll be toast in a year or two.
All you need is a handful of studs, cut to length (with an angle on one end). It’s not rocket surgery.
If you don’t over-tighten the bolts it folds very nicely. Cool eh?
Of course the whole point was to fuel Betsy… my beloved stove. For heat (which is desperately needed) but also atmosphere… which is the soul of a good workshop.
My dog inspected the sawbuck and found it adequate. My dog is OPSEC with fur and hates cameras. There aren’t many photos of it.
After I got the fire going and took a photo with my dog, I thought long and hard. The last time I took an important photo of the dog was right here.
[Warning: if you don’t get dogs or don’t have one… just tune the fuck out right now. I’m serious. It’s OK to go now.]
It was right here… this place. Right in front of this very stove. Last year in late spring. I thought my dog was going to die. It seemed a certainty.
This month and indeed all of 2019 so far has been a bit rough, but the spring of 2018 was a whole different dimension of misfortune (and some poor planning on my part too!). The whole thing nearly killed me. There came a day when I was very ill and my dog, which is (in dog years) older than dirt, just couldn’t move. That was a hard cold morning. I wasn’t up to facing another death. Not that particular day. I would have been crushed.
It all led to right here, this very space, not a full year ago.
That same day was a moment of grace. My dog, which is a big deal to me, laid down to die… and didn’t.
There’s no other explanation. I was spared. Not the dog. Me. It was me that was spared. The dog is ready to go. It’s never been afraid of anything.
Actually, that’s a misstatement. The dog, like any being, is afraid of things. For example, as a puppy it feared the UPS truck like you couldn’t imagine. But it’s almost constitutionally unwilling to let fear affect it in any way at all. When it was a ragamuffin puppy it was more than willing, eager even, to go to the mat against a 12′ tall, five ton truck that scared it to death. Why? To defend… me. Because it had to be done. Because the dog was born to protect and anything less would be unthinkable. No hesitation. How many of us can claim the same bravery? All dogs are good but I’ve grown a deep respect for Great Pyrenees. They aren’t particularly bright, they’re too huge for convenience, and they shed on everything… but the chest of a Great Pyrenees holds the heart of a dragon.
I spend a lot of effort trying to be as good and worthy as my dog.
Long story short, the dog ain’t in pain but it’s not going to live forever. I’m sure when the time comes, it’ll simply drift off. It’s not one for dramatics. It’ll got for a walk where I can’t follow and that’ll be it.
Anyway it didn’t happen then and it hasn’t happened yet. I’m lucky. I was spared a loss at a time when I couldn’t handle it. I never stopped being thankful.
With that one photo, the day turned on a dime. It was time to honor my good friend. I set down all my tools and made sure the dog had a place of honor by the fire. For me, I mixed up a cup of hot cocoa that had more bourbon than cocoa. For the best dog in the world, I put down a cool whip dish of melted snow and a treat.
I sat there with my dog all afternoon; moving only to keep the fire going and heat more warm drinks. I burned up and wasted most of that pile of scrap cants. I was very cold out. I can barely keep the shop warm enough to work. But right at the fire… just within arms reach… it was perfect.
I have a shitty old chair I keep for just these moments and it was a good time to use it. The dog likes the fire. We two sat by the fire and we rested. It’s not going to be much longer. The stove is going to last (it’s older than me). The saw isn’t going anywhere (it’s older than me and the dog and my truck all rolled up in one). But the dog’s clock is ticking. So I paid attention to it.
Last year I was given a reprieve. There won’t be a second one. I try to make sure to appreciate every moment. It’s hard to remember but for once I got the universe’s clue. I remembered. I didn’t get shit done all afternoon because I was petting my dog and doing nothing else. It was a good day. 
A.C.
P.S. In case you’re wondering the story is here: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 3.5, and Part 4. This is last year’s photo:
