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Donnerstag, 6. September 2012

Hammer-In in the Industriemuseum Ennepetal: Classic cars, knives and hop

Last Sunday, it was a hammer - In at the industrial museum Ennepetal again, and I rode by bike to work. I was feeling kinda exhausted, as seems to be the norm these days. I guess that´s what happens to you from time to time when you live a life that´s exciting and sometimes strenuous. It´s starting to take its toll. My dedicated readers might have noticed...;-). My holiday has done a bit of relieving, but I could have one again, already. But none in sight. Forging is starting to get on my nerves, too. It´s not the kids, but the circumstances. It´s not the hard work, either. But hard work for nothing or very, very little money is another matter, and if you work hard all the time and always give your best - whatever that may be worth - and have to wonder if there will be bread until the month´s end in your cupboard, something´s wrong. I actually often forage for my food. Others are just queuing for their dole, but that´s not my way of living. Some of them don´t do anything, in the contrary, I have met several people taking pride in the fact they have never done a bit of work in their entire life. I do not step into the trap set by the wizards of our society by hating them or despising them for that opinion. In fact, I do not know what has led them to get that opinion, and it might work for them. And there is a prominent desire by some individuals in the social context, usually higher up the ladder, (but not even necessarily so) that citizens would not socialize or even solidarize with each other. Thusly, I believe that the stark opinion poor people were lazy, is made up, partly, at least.

For me, that would not work. But I work hard at times, and get about one third of the income I would get if I applied for a minimum dole, which would amount for the limit at which one is considered legally poor. No, I am not complaining, it´s all my fault. I even take pride in the fact that I manage, and I believe it has taught me many valuable lessons. I even believe, making do with less might be the most profitable thing to learn for our society there possibly could be.

Where was I?*ggg*

Ah, yes, I was feeling exhausted. So I decided to take it easy that day, and smell the roses. There were, as usual, many beautiful classical cars. Enjoy!








The bakery "Kritzler" was there, offering their delicious products. You do not know the taste of bread until you have tried a homemade one, industrial bread simply does not compare.
There also was an abundance of grilled sausage (BRATWÜRST!!!!*ggg*). I had three!
Ah, yes, we even did some forging, and we got some valuable compliments about our style. Seems we were not taking it as easy as we thought...

Willi forged some really great damascus blades from Matthias Zwissler damascus billets. I had a go, to, and forged out a rod. I also finally got the temper on my railroad screw knife wired:
When I had another break to have a cuppa coffee and a cake, most of the cars were gone, but this jeep had arrived.
From a piece of iron I found in the woods I forged a large camp knife. It took a strange temper, though, so I have to try again. We discussed matters and came to the conclusion it might be wrought iron. It showed a high carbon content in spark analysis, so should take a high temper, up to 60 HRC. Turns out it doesn´t.
I heat-treated it very conservatively. You can better temper it higher afterwrds than fix a blade broken in testing!
At the end I forged this dragon-head with funny teeth*ggg* didn´t turn out too well, either.
When all was said and done, we went to the parking lot to have a chat, and what did we find? Hop in blossom (Humulus, in German: Hopfen). Good as a nerve-calming tea, or for brewing. We were happy and collected some of the flowers.

Willi was quite amazed at the find. We had some good hour of a chat, did some foraging, and then we said goodbye and I made for home.
On the way back I had to stop in the woods to relax a bit. The sun was out and enchanted the trees.

Then, on my way home, I passed the schoolyard of my old school. And there I finally shot a photo of this monument that has followed me through my school years and later on. Now I can finally understand it.


I rode on, towards my sorry excuse for a home, and I knew again why I live life the way I do.

Never give up.

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