...nor any kind of knitting, actually.
But this next thing does fall under the "geekery" part of this blog's mandate, so I thought I'd put it up today.
Rachel is finished her first semester of Grade 9 (yay!), including exams and all; this is also the first year she's taken what she calls "Tech," but what you and I might have known as "Industrial Arts." (Who thought of that name, by the way? How can something be "industrial" but also an "art"? It's a bit like "military intelligence," or "progressive conservative" -- two perfectly fine words that just don't belong in close proximity to one another.)
I remember my first term of Industrial Arts, in which my teacher terrified me by showing an unnecessarily gory film of someone getting impaled by a flying two-by-four because they forgot some crucial part of "how to use a table saw." Seriously, this put me off any form of woodworking or metalworking, particularly those kinds that involved power tools. I still can't use an electric drill without cringing. I wasn't fully comfortable with the whole Industrial Arts thing until we were safely ensconced in the non-power-tool-infested drafting studio.
Anyway, it seems that my daughter has not inherited my morbid phobia of power tools. In fact, almost every day for the past couple of months she's announced to me, "I used the router today," or "Today I learned how to use the band saw."
"Oh, really?" I'd say, gritting my teeth as I tried to smile. "That's great! Really great!"
Then it was, "I need 30 bucks for tiles."
Wha---? What kind of tiles? Solid gold ones?
(Actually, Rachel points out that I still owe her the $30. Whatever. I will pay up when she starts paying me for all the time I invested carrying and giving birth to her.)
Anyway, the tiles were bought, the wood worked, and this is the final result:
Want a closer look at those $30 tiles? Here you go:
Clearly, woodworking skills are not genetic. Geekery, however, is alive and well in our household.