In the beginning.....

Yup, I was born a logger, destined to harvest crochet hook logs (ok branches, but logs sound so, oh, timberjacklike) from the very beginning.

The photo above shows my first load of logs, on my first (and last) logging truck. Now don't get the idea we were affluent. My mom won that truck and, as fate would have it, gave it to me. No, we weren't affluent at all. In fact it took me weeks to save up 5 cents to buy a slingshot (for self defense only, mind you) to ward off the rooster that always lurked in a zone of aggression between the kitchen door and the outhouse. Now, of course, I'd whittle my own slingshot (oooooh was that too easy? If you are the first to email me at my yahoo email address and include the word "Slingshot", you just won a Jimbo hook!!! Wahooooo!), but back then I wasn't quite ready for a whittling knife.
Little did I know back in those days that a truckload of logs would yield quite a trove of hooks. In fact, had I known, I might have fussed a bit when mom tossed such logs into the kitchen stove to heat our bath water (what a waste of good wood!).
Anyways in case you're curious, my sis Sandy is the only female in the picture (far left), looking forlorn cause she didn't have a jimbo hook yet (even though she was the inspiration for this little adventure into hook making to fund cabin building).
And just to set you straight, I'm the good lookin dood on the far right, looking a bit smug about my first load of hook logs.
And speaking of cabins, what you see there is the front porch of cabin we lived in. Loved that place. The front porch was probably the most popular place around, cause it looked out over the meadow* and up into the mountains (Hoodoo Mt is close by). I'm hoping for such a porch on the new cabin.
Ok... nuf for now, gotta go help teach a carving class.
Thanks for dropping by!
Jimbo


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(actually this was taken through the trailer door recently, but the view's about the same as back then)