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So the end of the carpentry apprenticeship is just around the corner: exams in May, final project a few weeks later, and the question I keep getting asked is “What will you do afterwards?”
I don’t know what I’m doing next Saturday. Next year is a bit ambitious.
The local expectation is that I’ll get a job as a carpenter, start a savings account as a down payment on a house, and patiently push chipboard into a machine for the next forty years or so. Assuming that infinite growth is possible on a finite planet, and the bottom doesn’t fall out of the financial industry again, the reward for this monotonous plodding will be a suburban box and retirement at about 75.
Stuff that for a game of soldiers.
As well as not being very enthusiastic about the whole chipboard-and-machines carpentry, I’m not really that good at it: the sort of work I’ve been doing for the last couple of years requires me to be very methodical and mathematical, two words that came up frequently in my school report, as in: “Andy isn’t methodical and for goodness sakes don’t ask him to do any maths.” Maths for me is a creative process: the answer I come up with is far removed from what the teacher writes on the board.
On the other hand, carpentry is a broad field and I’ve got a degree in theatre studies and ten years experience doing all kinds of theatery things from set building to acting. There’s also a lot of big theatres nearby.
I’ll start there and see what happens.
There is a long term dream as well, but I’m too tired to go into it now and you’re probably bored already.
I am currently obsessively cutting wood joins in preparation for the end of year exam or the collapse of civilisation as we know it, whichever comes sooner. The exam is in two weeks so that is the main focus for now. I’m getting better, slowly.
Dovetails aren’t used much in modern carpentry, as the industry is based on machines making semi-disposable chipboard furniture which can be put together in a few hours, and will be replaced in a matter of years*, so anyone practicing traditional woodwork is considered pretty strange. I can live with that.
When I’m not practicing woodwork I’m spending a fair bit of time doing maths equations which will form most of the theory exam. We won’t use those much after college either.
Still, it keeps the system going…
*and is full of formaldehyde.
Eldest Son passed a milestone on this birthday by getting his first proper adult bike. After the initial excitement of finding his new present in the living room, he quickly realised that the potential of a bike is very limited in an attic apartment…
So once he had got back from School and we’d got it down to ground level we went off for a test ride, where he demonstrated his pleasure with his new bike by vanishing over the horizon whenever I wanted to take a picture.
German children and teenagers ride the sort of bikes I dreamed of in the UK. This one even uses a hub dynamo which Eldest Son was particularly insistent about as he was fed up with having a bottle dynamo whirring away and slowing him down whenever he had to go somewhere in the dark.
It is in a different league to the heavy mudguardless mountain bikes I had as a teenager, but then, so was the price, so I guess it works both ways. One question remains though, how did his handlebars end up being higher than mine?
This is why we decided to pay the extra for a very good bike this time: we will be using it at least ten years several times a week and in all weathers, so it will have a lot to cope with.
We cycle past these blocks of flats every week on the way to Eldest Son’s club activities and I’ve been meaning to mention it for some time*. It is an isolated section of Stuttgart called Asemwald, essentially made up of three blocks of flats, each 70 metres tall.
The trees are supposed to screen the buildings. When an architect feels the need to hide his building it really must be bad.
When the city built the flats they decided the best place was on a big hill to the south of the city. You can see it from miles away, in all directions. Unfortunately this also meant the 1800 inhabitants were far from the nearest railway station. The designers solved this by building a huge underground car park, and a bus stop.
There is a restaurant on the top floor of one of the buildings which is quite popular, possibly because when you are in it, you can’t see Asemwald.
*Which is why the trees apparently have leaves in November. I’ve been busy.
The carpentry apprenticeship is taking up a lot of time, because apart from the regular work we still have a couple of days at college a week and the regular module tests, and we have to learn technical drawing, Now I can draw reasonably well, but my “scribble until it looks about right” style is having trouble adapting to the need to make all drawings to Din 199 (ISO 10209-1 if you are interested*). Any variation from the industry norm, right down to the font size, is marked with the Big Red Pen of Doom. We are supposed to have about six drawings this year which sounds fine until you realise that each one involves at least three A3 sized pages plus extras for details, and each page takes about three hours on a good day.
In the real world, of course, everything comes as a quick sketch on the back of an order sheet, fax or whatever the boss had on his desk as the time.
Writing about this is as interesting as watching paint dry. Having started on the “Paint and varnish” module, I now know this takes anything from 15 minutes (touch dry) to 36 hours (transportable) depending on whether it is a single component or two component paint, but only when the air humidity is kept at 65%.
So now you know.
On the plus side, I’m making a bed for Youngest Son, which is much more exciting but unfortunately difficult to photograph because it gets dark in the evenings when I can use the workshop, and I now have a safe place to keep the Xtracycle at college, which means I can now cycle there with all the fat textbooks I’m supposed to carry and not get sweaty back syndrome. So far it seems to be working.
More on that soon, or as soon as I’ve finished the next set of drawings.
A friend of ours needed to move house, and I opened my big mouth and suggested that I could drive a car-share van, thus saving him a lot of money compared to renting. Being totally unaware of my driving incompetence he agreed.
We arrived intact -after a minor detour in Tübingen and a tour of an old railway yard- and found his apartment in an old mill, down a narrow track alongside a stream, on the edge of a small village.
The sort of place which is just begging for a family like ours to come along and start a smallholding/arts centre, like we’ve been dreaming of doing for ages.
Our dream is becoming more practical as I’m going to be a fully fledged carpenter from 2015. This will give me the skills to build stuff, and a way of actually earning money*. Rather conveniently there is a shortage of carpenters in rural areas.
At which point lots of people feel the need to remind me that we couldn’t possibly do this with our lifestyle. The vast distances of the countryside are simply too much for us to rely on bicycles, and public transport as we know it doesn’t exist. Better, we are told, to stay near to the big city with all the convenience this brings. Or grow up and get a car.
This is the view from our friends new apartment.
In the time it takes to catch a bus to our local tram stop and wait for a tram, my friend could take this train right into Tübingen, and take his bike with him.
Or he could use the traffic-free cycle way through the fields behind which goes into the centre of the city.
To add insult to injury, our friend pays far less rent than we do, because of the ‘convenience’ of our public transport.
* A Theatre studies degree being as useful as a submarine in the Sahara when it comes to making a living.
The tower from the main railway station in Stuttgart from outside the Opera House. There really is a three-pointed star on the top of the tower. It is lit at night and it turns slowly.
The crane in the background is for a hideously controversial rebuilding project called ‘Stuttgart 21’ which is a multi-billion euro rebuild of the railway station that will cause chaos for about five years, and if completed will actually reduce the station capacity from what we have now.
On the last day at college we went to visit a machine factory. The reason for this escaped me, and it didn’t help that we were allowed out a bit too late for the train home and just as a massive storm began. Note to tutors: most of us don’t have cars, it does not gain you any friends if you decide you’d like to see “one more thing” and make us miss our train, then get in your car a and drive off past us as we are running towards the station in the rain*.
As we arrived at the station the rain really started properly so we waited for a soggy half hour, then caught the train which took exactly six minutes to the main station.
There were two trains coming. The first would trundle a down the line for seven minutes then stop in the middle of nowhere. I’d then have to change for another train to Esslingen, our ‘big town’, where I would have exactly one minute to catch a bus up the hill. The next train ran direct but would get me to Esslingen just in time to see my bus leave and sit another half hour waiting for the next one to turn up.
I got on the first train, changed, arrived in Esslingen on time. ran through the station, out to bus station and arrived at my stop with seconds to spare. Victory.
Except that the bus wasn’t there.
Half an hour later the bus after the bus that wasn’t there also wasn’t there and none of the staff knew anything and I abandoned all hope and went looking for any bus that may be going roughly the right direction. Thus it was that I had a tour of another town some distance from home, found to a tram to the next village, and then had to walk across Next Village to where my bike was thankfully still locked to a bike rack, and cycled home. Total travel time: three hours. For a twelve kilometre journey.
All because my tutor wanted to look at a saw.
On the other hand, our system allows me to use my travel card on all public transport, so it didn’t cost me anything, it took so long I’d dried off by the time I was home, and at least it gives me something to blog about.
Perhaps I need to get out more.
*The ‘information’ we were given about the venue gave a long detailed description of roads and options for car parks, including a map, then concluded “If you are coming by public transport, you’ll need to work out where the station is”. Thanks for that.