incredulity - at scale

make a little birdhouse in your soul

Incredulity.

Yeah.

You could see my expression for miles.

Incredulous is a wonderful word.

"unbelieving," 1570s, from Latin incredulus "unbelieving, incredulous," from in- "not" (see in- (1)) + credulus "that easily believes, trustful" (see credulous). Formerly also of religious beliefs. Related: Incredulously; incredulousness.

Aside for an added letter ‘o’, not much has changed either between meaning or spelling of this great word.

It’s hard to teach someone wearing an incredulous expression.

What’s up sir?

My adult ed construction teacher smirked as he asked.

We aren’t really building anything here. I want to learn how to build. I want tips and tricks about how to use the tools. When are we going to stand up walls and do some real cutting.

George wilted a little. I could tell that he was like me: Gross motor skills are fun to play with and there’s a special magic that comes with standing up a wall. Making something real is rewarding in its own light.

We’re not standing up walls. We’re working with models. Budget cuts. AND, if you can build something small, you can build something larger. It’s really just a matter of scale.

With disappointment singing a siren song to my heart, my face began to flush. Budget cuts. Splinters instead of studs. Scale models instead of mighty lifting.

Yay, birdhouse class. Perhaps we’d have some Boy Scouts show up and lead us. Birdhouses for everyone!

My cynicism got the best of me. I didn’t return to that building class.

What a waste of time. What could I learn from building a scale model? What does someone who builds model airplanes know about actual airplanes?

Armed with books, videos and friends in the trades with plenty of helpful advice, I set out and built a cabin for my young and growing family.

Fast forward a decade and a half.

I’m still building.

These days, I’m playing with rough timber. Instead of going to the lumber yard and selecting dimensional, pre cut, ‘replacement parts’ lumber, I’m using spruce and fir poles that I’m scavenging from the woodlot.

At first they were difficult to work with. I used the same tools on these round poles that I’d use on dimensional lumber. Things were sticking and not lining up well.

Then?

I started using my hatchet, draw knife, chisels and my whittling knife.

With single blade, straight and sharp tools, I was able to cut more cleanly and shave things down so they fit together beautifully. It was surprising how easy it was for me to cut a log with a draw knife and get it clean and fitted flush.

It makes sense. I spend so much of my free time whittling. In doing so, at a very small scale, I’ve been building things. My whittling projects have taught me so much about working with wood, keeping tools sharp and how to use their functionality most effectively to achieve optimal results.

When I finally realized that I taught myself how to work with rough lumber and logs by whittling sticks, I was incredulous.

Beginning with a model has a certain magic to it.

Start small. Enjoy the blessings that the low end of the scale. You’ll be rewarded for your time and attention.

And if you’re lucky?

You might just learn enough to whittle your way to a log cabin.

Dare to dream?

Sure.

But don’t stop there.

Dare to do.