It’s a watershed moment here at my house. Watershed era?
Stepping into the garage you’re greeted not by the sight of bicycles on stands and hanging from hooks in the ceiling but by a lot of nothingness. All of the Park tools which had been hung on the wall in such an orderly assembly have been taken down, and are periodically leaving here for their new Ebay-assigned owners.
After ten years, my beloved husband has taken down his cyclecraft shingle. Years of fixing bikes for friends, rebuilding them for charity, restoring them for folks in the church have ended. He’s keeping his own bikes and the tools he needs to maintain them, but the parade of bent rims, broken shifter cables and mudcaked derailleurs is no longer marching to our door.
I don’t know how I’ll tell the coming of spring, because heretofore it has always been heralded by the first tune-up call. Evenings from late February to November were often punctuated by “I’ve got a guy bringing a bike over.” But this spring that all has started to change. The friends who used to have him work on their bikes have moved to different parts of town and are no longer able to just swing by. The clients he’s been left with are petulant and rude, for the most part. (Seriously. Who says “I’ll be by when I’m done hanging out” and then wants to come pick up his bike at 11:30pm, then is too tired to do so they ask you to drop it off at their house?? Come on.) All of the free time Husband spent riding he spent instead on fixing bikes, more than once getting stiffed.
But here’s the cool part. The money he is making on eBay (considerably more than either of us expected) is getting him up and running on the hobby he’s dreamed of since childhood. Our garage, once home to velocipedes of all shapes and sizes, is now going to be a studio for creating stained glass artwork. I’m excited especially because I know our house will finally begin to look like my dream of having stained glass in every window. (At the heart of it I’m a three year old who loves shiny things. A three year old or a magpie.) I’ve settled for the one stained glass piece we bought for our 10th anniversary and several tiny crystal pendants. But now, thanks to the decline of cyclebuilding, the good people at Sam’s Stained Glass Accessories on Fatherland, and several enterprising souls from eBay, the dawn of a new day will break through our lovely window pieces.
Yes, I know that was a corny line. But still. My point stands. It’s exciting.
Will he be taking commissions?
I’m not sure. I imagine he will eventually because that’s his personality. He likes working on things for other people. But he’s gotten so soured on the bike thing–we’ve had some seriously RUDE patrons this last year–that it might take a bit for him to warm to it.
Pardon the brevity and the typos. This was sent from my iPhone.
A three year old or a magpie.
Or a barracuda; when I went snorkeling in the Bahamas, the guide requested I put a piece of first aid tape over my nipple ring so the shininess wouldn’t attract barracuda. (Sorry, I’ve been more random than normal lately for some reason).
But I think it’s awesome that your hubby is getting into stained glass. Just the other day I was admiring the stained glass in some picture you posted on Facebook. I look forward to seeing pictures of what he creates.
NM,
I’m sure I’ll eventually accept commissions, assuming that I eventually become sufficiently proficient to avoid embarrassing myself. However, I’ve learned my lesson and will be somewhat selective in the projects that I take on. Friends, family and generally polite people. I’m sure you qualify under at least two of those.
I take that very kindly.
Ah… stained glass. Excellent choice. I truly wish him well. Stock up on good band-aids, the cloth ones, not the cheapo plastic things. Let me know if you need info on equipment, etc.
Patrick Todoroff
http://www.GlassGraphicsStudio.com
Hyannis, MA.
THAT’s what your email means. I assumed Patrick Todoroff was a pseudonym for the other person.
I feel so enlightened. Truly a banner day.
Would you seriously be open to having your brain mined?
Pardon the brevity and the typos. This was sent from my iPhone.
My brain mined?
I’ve got a mind like a puppy in a fire hydrant factory; always tearing about all excited, making lots of noise and leaving little messes everywhere.
You’d have to catch it first.
This shop is about four blocks from me…a delightful place to “window shop” (pun intended) — http://chapmanstainedglass.com/index.htm