Bill Venrick, The Wordwright

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July 31, 2009

NEARLY HALF A CENTURY AGO...

Lately we have been doing some nostalgic writing and when July 28 came up on the calendar I just had to put something down on paper to share with readers of THE WORDWRIGHT, so welcome to my world as Jim Reeves would say...
BILL VENRICK

NEARLY HALF A CENTURY AGO...

Or, you could say, "Four and a half decades ago, July 28, 1964, Bill and Jean Venrick moved into their "all they could afford" house. We had lived in two places since our jaunt to Hobbs, New Mexico (and several points in Ohio) until it was discovered "the ministry" was not exactly the mold Bill fit in sufficiently to warrant a life-time profession. Not that "we turned our back on the Lord", though, because "Bill and Jean Venrick" were always quite busy "in the vineyard of the Lord" -- we just decided the pew was a better platform than the pulpit. But I digress in getting started in the 45-Year-Story.

YES, Tuesday, July 28, marked the day that we moved into our "new house" in Lancaster, Ohio but it was sans carpet (plywood floor in the Living Room) and the walls were "new plaster white" for more than a year before we decided to adapt a color scheme. The carpet came sooner, of course, but as is the case of many new home owners, you cut here and there to get the price in the range of affordability.[the way it used to be instead of "no money down" and "no interest until 365 days later"]. We had shopped around several months while we were living in our first [little] mortgaged home, deciding whether to join the crowd of Development Houses or a "private contractor" and told the latter all we could afford. He took our self-drawn plans (and top-dollar figure) home and several days later came back and told us "the best I can do is $10,700.00." $10,000 had been our top-dollar amount so that was within the ball park and we struck a deal. From the day we struck the deal, 58 days later we moved into the house this "45 years story" is all about.

Our house was built on the east side of our street which was the dividing line of a development which, for some reason, was not a part of a major development in Lancaster. Right across the street a now 85 year old woman is the oldest resident in our block of close neighbors. The house next to hers was owned by a man who was in East Elementary School when I was a kid. The other side of our oldest neighbor was occupied by another former high school classmate. Just a few years later, a couple built right next to our house and I had been a fellow high school band member of this woman's brother.

Since my father-in-law was a professional carpenter we had involved him in the building of our house in a limited way--he built the custom cabinetry in our bathroom (that helped keep the price of our house lower). Our house was a two-bedroom dwelling, bath, kitchen, living room and half-finished basement--the other half was the garage, since our plot was one of those where the driveway goes right into the "basement" level (you know the arrangement I'm sure). We were the first family to build on the last half of an otherwise city block and only a few years went by before "the rest of that blank ground" filled up with four more houses. The neighbor directly south of our house was a family who had lived right across the street in the house from which we had just moved - we liked that coincidence.

But back to our house. The living room walls showed tell-tale roller splattering from the varnished doors which had been "rolled" when leaned against the newly plastered walls; the roller splattering clearly delineated where the doors had leaned against the wall. We thought nothing of it, and to use my father-in-law's phrase, he "didn't think much of it either"-- not too careful workmanship! But to a young couple who was glad to get settled in their new house, what made the difference?

Our house was small - about 1200 square feet and with just two people, that was good enough for now and 45 years later it is "just right" for two (old) people. Back in 1964 when our house was the first one in this half-block, it was also "at the bottom of the hill." Remember what always comes down hill? WATER. Well, when the first BIG rain came that was our first lesson on "water running down hill" but more specifically in the form of a very thin slurry of mud--right through our basement walls! Even as serious and non-funny as that was, it was even funnier to see our neighbor to the south of us madly scurrying around his house digging trenches to direct the water around his house so he wouldn't have the same thing! This water problem was solved when the neighbors started coming along to the north of us when their grass began to take hold.

Fast forward a few years. Children come along, naturally, and not so naturally. After "losing three children" in our first fifteen years of marriage we had given up on a family until 1966 when we decided to adopt one - no, we adopted two children, and within 9 months! Our daughter was 26 months old and our son was 14-1/2 months old at their adoption. Four years later we needed to add a bedroom. Enter father-in-law again. Jean's father again was a life-saver and great teacher on how to save (more) money. After deciding on a 14-foot square room addition, we started "collecting" the necessities to build on a much needed room.

I used a 2-week vacation to help my father-in-law do routine block laying for the basement portion. But previous to that actual laying blocks I visited a local concrete block manufacturer in town who welcomed us to help him by taking some typical "seconds" from his stacks of finished blocks. Not that the blocks were so poorly made they wouldn't work, they just would not suit a discriminating builder. We used all the "inferior" blocks for under-ground where they would not be seen and used brand new "perfect" blocks above the ground level. The main level (above the basement) was pretty much the same--we scouted and scarfed up every bit of building supplies we could that would be "unseen" and boy were there gold-mines if you just opened your eyes. One quick for-instance was the black insulation panels popular then. A local lumber yard had a poor habit of stacking the seconds of this product on "just another pile" instead of putting a BAD ONE on top of the good ones--and any strong winds always found a way to ruin the top of the stack). No guessing required--"Where did we get a lot of our black panel insulation?" YEP, off that inferior stack--and for a real discount. We not only used the full sheets (when available, on the outside surface) we cut strips of the black panels to fit within the studs and after filling the typical insulation space with usual insulation we made a chase-like form to "top off" that space with MORE insulation with the "strips of black insulation". Consequently our new room is the best insulated part of our house! After about a month we had a new bedroom at the cost of $900. And didn't have to borrow a dime--we just bought as we needed it with several months of planning. I doubt if I ever spent a more profitable vacation, even if my very inadequate talents were not the best and, of course my work continued after my vacation ended as well.

Perhaps we might tell another story or two later about how our house took on changes. So far, we've been able to talk ourselves out of a condo move--so guess we will see if we can hit fifty years in this little house.

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July 22, 2009

HOBBY VIGNETTES OF VENRICK

IN A PREVIOUS VIGNETTE I touched on some subjects or incidents that may create a "didn't I read that before" syndrome when you read this essay. This story I am about to share, although similar or paralleling my interests in recycling, for example, is not the same story! So, relax, and enjoy.

"BUSY" IS A WORD that has been used to describe me. In one or more of my essays I have made mention of my Mother's father, Harry E. Keadle. He once told me of a time when I was quite small, but big enough to get into mischief, he heard me picking up a wrench and messing around near one of his weaving looms (he had five at one time). It must have been quite obvious where I was by the sounds his keen ears picked up some metallic noise (he was blind) and he surmised I had a wrench in my hands. "What are you doing Billy?" he asked. My reply turned out to be a classic, "Fixin". I have often wondered if, after I left, he "looked" (really felt) all over the metal loom I was "fixin" to see if I had left a wrench or something else in a working section of one of his looms. "Fixin" has been a hobby of mine for years.

Some hobbies. I suppose, come from a developed ability to fix things, or maybe even design or make things. Sometimes it is a drive or compulsion in which circumstances have cropped up in my life to fix or make something in our home or for our children or other relative in the past years.

WOODWORKING is definitely one of my hobbies. My father-in-law, Ray Steel, was known as a finish-carpenter or cabinet-maker. In his lifetime he had a part in building or finishing six houses. Later I realized he was simply acting as a contractor who hired various men to lay blocks, build the shell, do plumbing and then he would "finish" the insides. He might even do the wiring although he was not an electrician. Once he built a home where he used several ton of Bedford, Indiana Limestone for two fireplaces and outer stone work. He would live in those houses for a while and the urge would come to "build another house" after he and his wife lived in that house for several years. When he married, just prior to the Great Depression, he moved his new wife into a house he had built which only had a very small debt to pay. That was the house where my wife was born on Reese Avenue in Lancaster, Ohio. We even have a few pieces of his workmanship from that house in our house today. I saw my father-in-law at work many times but never imagined that I would some day own some of his tools and become a "half-way-decent" woodworker myself.

Upon my father-in-law's death, inheriting some of his tools obviously created the urge to learn how to use them and apply myself to becoming useful (or busy) in yet another way. I remember my very first project was to make a single shelf which I positioned beneath a large mirror covering the wall at the end of our hallway. "BIG DEAL -- a single shelf." but it was a start in my experience as a woodworker (I would not dare consider myself a real carpenter)..

FOOTSTOOLS became the "signature product" in early woodworking projects. Gradually, more than a couple dozen stools found their way into our house, our son and daughter's houses, other relatives' and friends' houses. My wife kindly scolded me for not making every one of them the same! Each stool was slightly different due to trying this and trying that feature or technique to achieve the desired results. Strength was one desired feature and because of the lack of skill, experience and knowledge of wood the stool designs were definitely strong. Some of my stools could probably have been used in the circus tents for elephants to step on. But somehow they became a regular request so another stool was made. Only one stool, to the best of memories, was a "commissioned job" where money was a result because an auto mechanic ordered a stool for a specific use in his shop.

TOYS of all descriptions also became projects from the shop. My woodworking skills did not begin until after becoming a grandparent so toys were a natural place to utilize basic skills. Several catapults (using Ping Pong balls as ammunition) were made; as well as pull-type toys, miniature writing desks (with a roll of adding machine tape for writing paper) and marble roll toys and puzzles

DUMPSTER DIVING - I hope this doesn't embarrass any of our sophisticated friends (or even family--but they ought to know better) but many projects were either made or fixed using something picked up either on the street (near the curb of course) or in the dumpsters of assorted "Resources" in our town. "Someone's trash is someone else's treasure." Yep, that's me and I can't help it -- it is almost impossible to drive past a "collection" of throw-aways; you never know what is there until you stop and look through it! The word JUNK is a respectable word in my vocabulary. Yes, there is evidence the CO Syndrome (compulsive obsessive) needs factored in -- "You never know when you might need that little or big piece...one of these days." Another syndrome, TMB (too many birthdays) is making it obvious some real trimming down of possessions is needed. It would be a shame to leave "too much stuff for the kids to get rid of" (a morbid but realistic fact just the same). Perhaps I just need to get busy, maybe get away from this computer and build something else and shave down some of my collection from Dumpster Diving.

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THE WORDWRIGHT


July 13, 2009

EVER WONDER WHY?

ONE WORLD?

EVER WONDER WHY some want "One World"? Here are some "WONDER WHY..." questions from my part of the country. You may have more questions.
THE WORDWRIGHT

Wonder why different races or nationalities exist?
Wonder why we have different climates?
Wonder why there is light and day?
Wonder why different breeds of animals were needed?
Wonder if there was a meeting in Heaven to decide how many kinds of animals or insects, for land and sea would be needed, and who was in charge?
Wonder who decided on the food chain?

Wonder why it "has to rain" or snow.
Wonder why we have to have tornadoes, hurricanes, sandstorms, ice jams?
Wonder why some are left-handed instead of right-handed? Is either wrong or both right? Question: How could both be right if one is left?
Wonder why individual opinions cannot be utilized without 100% agreement?
Wonder what is so wrong about the individual sovereignty of nations?
Wonder why (naturally or supernaturally) the nations became different?
Wonder why some families (and individuals from other nations) disperse?

Wonder why some people cannot accept "natural" divisions or boundaries?
Wonder if there might be some pluses in diversities of "national" products?
Wonder how or why different languages came to be?
Wonder if the Tower of Babel is a parable or actual happening?
Wonder where or when "push" came to "shove" and war occurred?  Does it all go back to Cain and Abel????
Wonder what is so wrong with just commonality among nations?
Wonder if an ulterior motive, like power, is the root of desiring "one-ness"?

Wonder if, when we become one world, natural diversities will return?
Wonder whose precepts will prevail?
Wonder who will be King, or should there be a King or Queen?
Wonder what is so wrong with having different nations or countries?
Wonder why humans cannot simply agree to be different?
Wonder who is pushing for One World - and will they be happy if they aren't in charge?
Wonder why everyone doesn't have the same color of eyes, hair or skin?
Wonder why people come in different sizes?
Wonder how many questions there really are in our minds about anything else?

I wonder why I have so many questions?
I wonder if my questions will ever be answered?
I wonder how long God will put up with the mess we have made of our planet?

WILL"ONE WORLD" answer all these questions?  If not, why change? Would we be like the man who admitted he was in a problematic situation because "he didn't know what he didn't know"?

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