As a young boy, working with my grandfather, I remember trying to crank this old grindstone as he sharpened some of his garden tools. With only the power coming from the leverage of the crank, you had to keep it going and let the mass of the huge stone do the work.
Underneath the old grindstone, the wooden frame cradles a deep handformed metal trough which holds cool water to keep the stone wet. Hinged along the length, when you are finished, you unlatch one side and the tray tilts down and empties the water.
The old grindstone did it’s job for my greatgrandfather, my grandfather, and my father, still smoothly spinning on old cast bearings. In front of a new century of tools, it sits quietly. Now 120 years years old, it keeps me company in my workshop and ready to be called upon, again.
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When I was a young boy there was a man who came around once a year, carrying one of these on his back. He would sharpen our knives for a meal. My mother would feed him, slip him some cash and off he would go again. I've always remembered him as well as the annual fuller brush guy visits. When they didn't come anymore I missed them then and probably still do because it was such a great time to be a kid.
Isn't great to share the stories of our Fathers! Especially the ones about the tools we still have to this day!