Blogging the blacksmiths yesterday put me in mind of my own affair with metal, the consequences of never throwing anything away. The above items came from the old foundry in Angels Camp that was torn down many years ago. Rusty metal always calls to me. Don't know why.
The unidentifiable hunk of rust above the wheel is a piece I wrenched from an old potato harvester that belonged to my grandfather. I visited the old homestead in 2004. The airline security people looked at me a bit strangely when my suitcase passed through the xray machine, but said nothing.
A mixture here of my daughter's hay hooks from her horse and shoeing days and more pieces from the foundry.
These hand forged door latches are from Chris Mollett's house which was built by a friend of hers. He even hand hewed the wooden beams and made the doors. Talent of which I am envious.
The long saw blade with the missing handles belonged to my father who worked in the woods as a lumber jack. His handsaws are hanging there as well. I tend to hang things that have interesting shapes and function... that is... everything, if you are a collectiholic.