Burns night celebration at the smithy

 Yap, I know, it has been some time ago, but then I have never claimed to be the New York times;-). Burns night, that is. Craig had called and asked if he could use the smithy for his alternative Burns night celebration, and we really welcomed that. We all are fond of food and drink and plain ol# fun and poetry and strange people alike;-). Willy arrived early to helpme with forging 18 Sgian Dhús as our part of the fun. Craig had ordered them made for his friends. So we lit up forge, and I took the sledge and did some pounding. Volker contributed with a steady flow of strong coffee, cake, good humour and good-natured encouragement, as usual. Thanks, bro, good to know you!

 And, Willy, great to have you around. Don´t know of the many fixes you helped me out! It was great fun to forge with you, as usual!
Willy made some angels he is currently practicing, and they are just cute!

 We started with forging out round material to a flat billet. Then we forged the tangs. Time went by, and the sun was sinking, and the first guests arrived, amongst them René. Readers of my blog might know him as having forged a bit himself and being groom ;-) to Pam, the goldsmith, but he is one of my oldest and best friends, and I was right delighted to be able to meet him!

 As usual I had little time, what with 18 sgians needing forging. I just thought I´d show you how you can forge a bevel with a bit more shape control:

 As with any of my knives, I had started forging the tang (see above). Then I forged a tip. I then set the would-be bevel to about one third of the full width. I used the anvil´s edge for that. Some like to use the hardy chisel, but I find this can go awry too easily, and using the edge of the anvil is faster, too.

 Then, using the anvil´s horn, you give the would-be bevel a preshape. The blade now resembles somewhat of a sickle. By the way, if you actually want to forge a sickle blade, you´d have to preshape the bevel side almost full-circle. For when you start driving out the material in the edge area, you also compress it towards the spine of the blade, and that makes this happen:

 That´s how the blade looks like with the bevel forged. No grinding whatsoever needed. By driving out the material from the edge area you straighten up the blade. To the kids I sometimes compare it with working cookie dough, only at a slightly *ggg* higher temperature.

 Craig and Nigel provided us with some great music, and it was funny how the rythm of our smithing fell in line with their songs. That was fun, folks!

 Just a few of the sgians I forged that day... I can tell you, I was absolutely fluffy, but had to keep going. Then suddenly it was dinner time. Craig and Nigel again played some great folk music, there was a mad poet reciting Burns´poems, and suddenly the haggis came in, complete with tatties and potato mash. I was hungry like a wolf, and delved into the dishes with relish, amusing myself by telling René what Haggis actually was. ;-) But he surprised me by not only nibbling daintily at it, but taking three full servings! I just managed two, and I was not even able to finish the dessert, which was a delicious apple crumble by Craig´s Lovely wife Silke. We had some real nice chats, traded some jokes, had a beer, and then...

 It was back to the smithy... I managed to forge 12 sgians total, one was made by Willy, but I simply collapsed and called it a day.

We had some chats, and I had some more beers, and some more apple crumble, and some real good whiskey. I got to know some quality people again,listened to great music, and when I was riding home, I was humming and whistling conetntly to myself all the way.

I look forward to next year´s Burns night celebration!

Children´s birthday party at the smithy - and an elven knife that wanted to be a seax;-)

On Sunday we had a children´s birthday party scheduled, and Volker had called the other day if I could help out. Turns out I could, and so I saddled my steed and rode out. Of course, there were not many surprises, business as usual, and I find I get more and more routine in that. Not that each and every time it would not be a new experience. It feels great to work with the kids, if they are willing and their parents let them be creative! Those kids were great to work with, minor quarrells are always part of the trade, but all in all, they were willing and enjoyed it well.

I wonder what will matter in their life more-the things they learned to make by hand or those abstract mathematic noone except a rocket scientist will ever need? And I simply hope to start the feeling they can actually make things by hand, and being capable of actually shaping their own world by hand and skill and will. If we could achieve but a tiny bit of that notion, even if it were in but one out of hundred, our work would not be for nope. We always welcome them back to the smithy, whenever they want to come, and not only for the reason they pay Volker for it!

You can always tell when kids are creative and eager to learn when the parents give them a backing. Those kids were socially educated, not yelling at each other, quarrelling some, but that´s normal, but not beating each other to pulp (and mind you, we had that, too, on more occasions than we´d like to mention). Mum and Daddy did not panic when the kids were playing in the nearby creek, building dams and coming back looking like swamp monsters;-), and in turn, it showed in the work of the kids. So simple!

The kids had a display to choose from this time, and we forged mini horsehoes with their names stamped into, knives, musical notation signs, snails, snakes, pendants and the like.

Here Volker stamps horsehoes with the name letters of the kids...

 

Nick came by, too, to have his first try of working with the kids, and he did a great job with the kids. His smithing skills still give us something to work on, but that was quite a feat; for he simply made clear that he was learning still and wanted to do it together with the kids! Really good, mate. The kids liked him and he got the right kind of control. 

"Hammer high!!!" was his command, and the kids had fun with it!

The kids always have to wear safety glasses, goggles, gloves and aprons for protection.

Some of the things we made. Celtic Kopis and utility knives, a seax and a skinner blade made from coldforged (work-hardened) steel. We offer a tutorial for a knife out of spring steel, but that takes way longer and costs 50 - 70 €, and most parents are reluctant to pay THIS! MUCH! FOR! A! KNIFE! DOH! *ggg*, so mild steel is what they get. It is surprising, though, that you can get ´em to cut, albeit not very good, by coldforging!

More of the stuff.

Then, suddenly, all was over, and I tutored Nick some more on blacksmithing, and then I worked for a project we are about to start. The idea was developed after the "Forging against racism" - event at the TFH in Bochum city. Petr mailed along and asked if he could contribute, and the magic troll, Volker and myself decided to start it for ourselves and blacksmiths and craftsmen all over the world, if at all possible. So, if you want, forge a chain link or even a chain, carve it, weave it, knit it, felt it, do whatever you want. keep it in your country, call all your friends to contribute, call anyone who would want to contribute, be it a Christian, Muslim, Buddhist, Pagan, Taoist, Shintoist, Shamanist, Animist, Philosopher, Atheist or whatever. We will start a blog and a facebook account and will offer anyone who coordinates the activities in her / his country admin / author rights on that blog. If you have already made something, send a photo smaller than 1 MB to an email adress I will establish soon, when the blog and accounts are on (I will post in two - three weeks time with all info!). And then, in a future yet to come, I hope we can all meet and link that chain together as a sign to all the warmonging arseholes around the world that we, the people of the earth don´t want nuclear threats and wars for petty reasons. If we had an argument, fine, that can be discussed. But we are fed up with the economists ruling out our life and death. With our work, we could fight without violence, not against something, but for a process of forging unity. That is not to say all will be grand. But tell us our story, and people all over the world will get to know your people. You can, of course, write in any language you´d want, but it makes more sense if you could do it in English, for it is understood in most any part of the world.

So, come on, get to the forge, the spinning wheel or the carving bench. Wood will be linked to wood, cloth to cloth, and iron to iron, and work to work and deed to deed!

Then I rummaged through my backpack and, deep down in the depths I found the elven hunting knife that broke recently for it got too hot. I realized it had a monstrous spine thickness and decided to give it a try to draw it out further, and made this seax blade from it. Wrought iron and 1.2842 three-layer - laminate, and it worked out well. Due to the additional pounding, and some annealing, annealing (and when I was done annealing I did some annealing and annealed, and annealed some more, just for  a change, before I did some annealing;-)) I managed to achieve a finer grain structure. Then I tempered it and tested it, and it works! Seems that the iron does not want me to forge fantasy knives, and I will keep that to heart!

The sun was setting when I said goodbye to Nick and Volker and made for the trail home.

Knifemaking day at the smithy...

 On Friday I had an appointment with Nick at the smithy, and some work to do. So I rode out to Witten. The sun was shining brightly, and I took in the silence and solitude in the Ruhr marshes and the hooting and singing of geese, cranes, ducks and singing birds.

 I met but few people, and the atmosphere was outright idyllic.

 But we were determined to change that!*ggg* Nick came by and we lit the forge, and I showed him some basics, for he wants to get serious about smithing and to help out where he can. And we worked on the En-Nep we forged at the Industrial Museum.

 Nick apparently enjoyed himself.  He suffered from some throwbacks, but I hope that does not bother him much.

 I showed him how to forge a swallow´s tail scroll, and a rat-tail scroll, and he tried out for himself.

 Meanwhile, I ground and tempered the sgian dhú blade out of spring steel for a friend of Craig´s. Sorry, Craig, it´s getting there, and I know I am a forgetful moron, for in fact, I simply forgot it. George will get a good one, though.;-) The other blade is a hadseax made from wire damascus.

 And some copper fittings and a spoon from mild steel I forged that day, too.

 When the sun was setting, Volker brought Nick to Witten railway station, for it´s a right trek out there! I had fun with Nick and I hope he´s here to stay!

Muttentalfest party on 24th of March at the Bethaus, Muttental

On 24th of March we will do a big party, the first of this year;-). At the Bethaus, we will celebrate the famed "Muttentalfest" from 11 am until 6 pm. The whole valley will offer a load of activities for kids, adults and families alike, and all of the museums will be open.

Good food, friendly people, and, hopefully, great weather ;-) will be abundant, and most important, Volker and myself will be there*ggg*.

Come around, have a coffee and a cake and a chat!:-)

Das Schwert vom Muttental (The sword of the Muttental) - Impressions from a day of martial rituals and chaos.;-)

 Here they come-some impressions from the "Heidenspass" (pagan fun) party at the Bethaus smithy, which turned out a mess;-). On Friday, I called Volker if all was okay, and learned, that a film crew announced their venue for the festival. Being impressed, I asked, what they wanted to film, and Volker said "To film the Scots! Erm...,and for a TV soap, too... ". I know when you cannot get any more information from Volker, so I left it at that and readied myself for a catastrophe. Years of practice, you know;-). I got the info they wanted to come at around 9.30 am, and felt assured the whole thing would be finished at 1 pm.

 We arrived early, at 11 am, that is, and I immediately wanted to prepare work, and cut the raw stock for the blade of the claymore we wanted to forge. At 11.30 the film crew arrived. They immediately closed down the entire area, and only the protagonists of the culturally dubious TV soap were allowed, including Volker, to do anything. They even wanted to prohibit us from talking at all, even at the distant end of the area, some 50 m away from the set! No harm done, really, would they have asked politely, but they were extremely short-tempered, cynical and plainly insulting, and yes, I have no problem ranting about them in this blog. Everything bad has a good side, too, for in this situation I really learned to love those weird guys and gals from Clan Mc Laren friends of Germany. Click on the link, there´s a load of photos! In situations like that you can estimate the quality of people.

We had a laugh, with whispered shouts of "Creag an Tuirc!" (Rock of the boar), the warcry of Clan Mc Laren and fun with bagpipe adjustment*ggg*. It was also funny to see the head admin of the crew stood there with a disgusted look on her face and a shawl pulled over her nose and mouth to fend up the stench of the smithy (which is outdoors), and muttering to all who would and more that would not like to hear how inferior those blue-collar men were and how sorry she was she had to work with ´em... I guess it was a good thing she did not hear much of what those guys and gals had to say about the behaviour of her crew. I do not like talking behind the back of people much, but this is just fitting, for mobbing is the job of corporations producing casts like "How we destroy the life of some poor fellow living on the dole already by making a feature about exactly how his sleeping room stinks" and other medieval mindset cripple shows. But as is, that crew was not so important that we did not have other topics, too. We made good use of the spare time by having a good strong coffee and chats about this and that, and I learned a lot about the Mc Laren Clan.

 To the right is Jogi, second in line to the McLaren friends´ chief role. Looks a brute, but is one of the nicest guys I know!

 There was plenty of life around, and we certainly had fun.

 I followed Sylvia into the kitchen to get me another mug of coffee. Jochen was there, too, and we had a chat. I asked him: "Will you stay for the evening party today?" He looked up, a bit irritated, and replied. "Yes, of course, for it´s mine! There is a party going on, and I booked the location 4 months in advance." As did I. So, we took counsil.

 Fortunately, I must say, my cellphone kept ringing with storytellers, druids and other weirdos canceling their appearance, so it was just Clan  Mc Laren and myself left.

 ...there is worse company (from the right) than Ralf, Rübe and the others.

 They were as nervous as I, and tprepared their attire quite thoroughly...

 ...to mess it up completely in the barbecue;-).

 Rübe enjoying a great handmade beef burger.

 ...and the rest of the lot. Of course, no barbecue without a catastrophe on this day, for, even if Volker said the grill should be placed there, does not mean it is so. Sorry, Volker, but that´s how it was for me. Jochen had a problem with customers inquiring about a BBQ meal, and so the position of the grill was not okay at all. So, speed grilling it was, and off to the feast.

 What I like best about the clan is their stubborn refusal of anything unnerving them or taking the fun away. They simply make do and enjoy themselves. I like that.

 ...

 And I understand that someone is proud of this banner.

When the morons were gone, we set to work in earnest. I had prepared a ritual, and it was a goosepimples experience to all of us. The Eldest of the clan, Reinhold, was chosen by the clan to respond.

Text of the ritual:

(Fran dagen, fran natt, rekkur varom koman, fran austrisheimi, uuestrisheimi,sudrisheimi auk nordrisheimi. Kvedja, kisibbjan, varför vart koman? - Att smidja sverdi! - Vad är herkalls dins? - Creag an Tuirc! - Rísa herkalls dins annat! - Creag an Tuirc! - Rísa herkalls dins thredjan tid! - Creag an Tuirc!)

At that point, the bagpipes sounded the charge;-), I consecrated them with artemisia, sage, salt water from ancient Hallstatt stone salt I mined myself long ago and drew out the ring of the elements around us all, giving a sacrifice to the elements and the first matter and the fire and lightning. When I started the invocation of fire and lightning, a light drizzle fell and a gentle rumble of thunder was heard at the distance (or maybe just a starting plane;-))

However, talk is cheap, and work is harder;-) that I am a bit light in the head did not mean there was no blacksmithing going on... Look here for more photos 

It was hard work for all of us, with permanent sound of bagpipes singing and shouts of "Creag an Tuirc!", and it was an arousing experience to all bystanders. Some passers-by said afterwards it made their hair stand on end. I understand that well, it was very archaic and martial atmosphere. Now I often state that I am a pacifist. Now I forged a sword for a Scottish clan. How does that fit together?

If you take a look around you, you might notice that we live in a very strange situation. Everywhere people prepare for war, but the last thing they want is peace. For peace is a non-profit affair. Traditionally, the Chleadhaimh Mór was the sword of the Clan´s champion, and this champion´s (Tren Fhér) obligation was to defend the clan in times of war. Often, in ancient Celtic tribal practice, war was an ordeal by battle, a duel fought solely by the champions of the armies. I can pretty much relate to that. Also, this ritual was something I did for myself. I will forge my own sword in the near future. I have studied its ethics and its mythology for 20 years now. This is not the place to talk about this more broadly, but it was a process. I have always fought against the desecration of the sacred, be it Christian, pagan, philosophical or whatever provenience, against the inhumanity of our everyday society, and I have always spoken my word. Five years ago it was that a sword came to me (another story). At that time, more than twelve people (roundabout 30) people followed me, so I could readily acclaim the status of Ansrúth ;-)after the Senchus Mór*ggg*. But I did not, for it is not my way. It´s not the easy way. It is not that I could state I was a master, nor that I belong to this religion or that, for I, (and if we are honest, we all are) am a seeker. I am not better than anybody. Instead, I concentrate on trying to not make the world any worser as it already is. I try to listen to the weak and strong alike. When I can, I try to help. If anyone wants to prey on the weak, I tend to get angry, but I try to be objective and reflect myself. That is not to say that I always succeed in doing so, but that I try. In the situation our world is, noone does that anymore. Noone treats the other with the respect even a moron deserves, and most people are but concerned with their own wellfare and prosperity, and, more so, get at each other´s throats for the slightest of reasons. It is said in the Völuspa:

Broedr mún beriaz, ok at bánom verdaz,

skeggold, skalmold, eda verold steypiz,

vindold, vargold, mún engi madr odrom thyrma.

(Brothers I see starting at each other, and strive for death,

An axe-time, a sword-time, ere the world ends,

A wind-time, a wolf-time, I see every man doom the other.)

So, I am reluctant to admit that, it might as well be the time to take the sword to hand, and in a way that is quite different to the actual use of the weapon. For a sword has always been more than just a weapon. It has been a symbol, and to it was bound a way of living, a way of spirituality even. In Japan, the sword was said to contain the soul of the Samurai, and presumeably, the sword did not mean less to the Celtic and Caledonian tribes. We might live in a world dominated by the tank, the whip (and the credit card) (Ernst Wiechert). But the spirit of the sword might be the only way to doom the idea of the tank. And the whip. And the credit card. Thusly, I did not forge just the blade of a weapon. I forged a bond between the members of Clan Mc Laren, and, hopefully, a tiny portion of a myth.

And, if the claymore was used for the protection of the weak, and I know the Clan Mc Laren friends well enough to estimate what meaning the forging of a sword conveys to them, I can forge this sword even if I am a pacifist, for that does not mean I am a misty-eyed dreamer. 

I am certainly not an accomplished swordsmith. This is my fourth blade, and I have so much to learn my ignorance is vaster than an ocean still. But noone else did it, so I had to.

Back to the forge now: As I was in the middle of the work, my cellphone rang. It was Alex, who helped me a lot at the Meilerwoche festival. Turns out he was on the way but got lost in the woods. He applied for working and helping with the kids, and said he would come with a rather dubious friend of his, a drunkard, to be quite plaintive. In the meantime, it was 3 pm. In the brief time of  talk we had it became clear that he was drunk also and had no money to get anywhere. He wanted to come to the smithy nonetheless. So I took some tiny bit of time to get him back on track (in several ways, or at least I hope so). He called several times, and I agreed to give him money to get back home. Look above why I did this. It was getting on my nerves, what with all the epic failures, but I guess I tried to be fair.

All the while, the forge I was provided with did not work properly, Volker asked me to forge mini horseshoes, people called to cancel their venue. Kai, Marie and some friends dropped by, Erdmuthe;-), Jandark, and Bastian came in a haze, and myself and the Mc Larens were bound by the forging of the sword, as we worked on binding the spell into the metal, Alex called again and again, and Renate and Sylvia and Jochen and Volker went mad with each other. It was a mad dream. The day came to a close, and somehow we decided to finish the blade on another occasion. Then Alex suddenly was there. I spun around madly with all the friends enquiring and the clan feasting and Alex and Volker begging for attention.

And then it was all over. We had a drink and said goodbye, and it was mighty soothing to learn the clan really had enjoyed themselves. They all had that spark in their eyes that kindles the fire of a heart. This was beautiful to see and very rewarding.

Because I was done - and all fluffy at that - I had a chat with Jandark, Julia, and Bastian, who wanted to go to a party of the president of my club, zee aylienz, and we appointed a rendezvous for them to fetch me. Of course, I had forgotten my light, and it was exactly 15 turns of the cranks of my bike for it to start raining, and what was a light drizzle at first, became a downpour after some minutes. What was real funny was, that the metro train that passes through the Ruhr valley, can be seen from the bike lane. There, it overtook me,  wet, cold, and shivering from fatigue, with SOMEONE *ggg* sitting inside warm and cozy, with his third beer open, from the money Volker then lent him. No jealousy, really, but I simply had to stop, I was laughing that hard. And I would be laughing harder still, when on a steep incline my chain broke. I fixed it, in the dark, with rain in my eyes, cold fingers and a laughing fit so intense I had muscle sores from it the next day. I arrived at home quite early, had a shower and some food and  was off to the party. Maik welcomed me warmly, and I had not expected that.

Then, when I ladled food on a dish and had my beer standing nearby, I tore down the bottle with my elbow. I had broken my middle toe some three weeks earlier, and the bottom of the bottle broke exactly the next one. I took up the bottle, mopped up the beer, finished ladling up my food, drank the rest of the beer, said "ouch" and had another laughing fit.

For I understood.

And I have learned a lot that day.

And it´s better to encounter chaos and misery sometimes than not to live at all.