Some good friends, all met through blogging, are filling in for me while I take a two-week sabbatical from Time Goes By. Today’s guest blogger is Steve Sherlock who blogs mainly at Steve’s 2 Cents and also at quiet poet where his verse and sherku can be found at Franklin Matters, about his current hometown in Massachusetts.
Recently part of a "reduction in force" by his former employer, he is enjoying some "sabbatical time" to put together a business plan for what he will do next. This business plan will the be key to assuring Dolores, his wonderful wife, that all will be well. Together, they want to continue enjoying the empty nest while their daughters are away; one at college, one recently graduated and working.
- Wet it but don't let it drip
- Hit it while it's pink
These are two good pieces of advice I received early in my working life that still ring true. Knowing how to slice steel or scoop ice cream is important.
In the early 1970's, my first "real" job was scooping ice cream for the Newport Creamery that used to operate on Central Ave in Pawtucket, Rhode Island. I learned quickly that the ice cream scoop needed to be wet to scoop the hard packed ice cream without breaking your arm.
The scoop shouldn't be dripping wet. That would bring water into the ice cream which would crystallize and make the ice cream more "ice" than cream. Taking the scooper from the little shelf where running water kept them wet, shaking it on a towel to remove the excess water, and then reaching in to the container to bring out the single or double scoop of maple walnut, pistachio, or one of the many other flavors that Newport Creamery was noted for was much easier that way.
I only worked at the take out counter for about six weeks before my father managed to get me into his steel mill, Washburn Wire Company in Phillipsdale, Rhode Island. This was a steel mill that had operated from the early 1900s. I felt like I was stepping back into time going there. I also tripled the hourly wage I was making so that was great.
If you were given a hatchet and asked to take a sample from that coiled steel rod, would you say something like: "You're crazy!" I did.
But it was true. Holding the end of the coiled steel with a pair of tongs, I would use the hatchet to slice about a foot off the rod. The sample would be put into a bucket for the metallurgist to test to ensure that the mill was running well. He would check to see that the rod was indeed being drawn into the round, oval or rectangular shape that the run required.
In the #2 Wire Mill, the rod started out in the furnace where the two-inch by six-inch billet was heated to approximately 1900 degrees F. It ejected from the furnace and was guided into a series of rollers.
There were four monstrous devices that at each step pulled the billet, shaping it and stretching it out from its original 30-foot length to end up coiled at my foot more than 300 foot in length. It was still so hot that stepping up to the coil, I could drop a candy wrapper into the center and in would incinerate before touching the ground as flakes.
Using the tongs, I grabbed the end of the rod, stretched it out over a cutting block and used the hatchet to slice off the sample. The key was to hit the steel while it was still pink. Once it started turning silver, the hatchet would bounce off. If a sample was really required from that coil, I would need to use some serious wire cutters. But as long as the steel was pink, the hatchet sliced it like butter.
I have not had much opportunity to cut steel recently but when scooping ice cream for dessert, the water trick works as well today as it did then.
[ At The Elder Storytelling Place today, Johna Ferguson deals with the difficulty of dressing for the holiday season in The Joy of Aging. ]
Recently part of a "reduction in force" by his former employer, he is enjoying some "sabbatical time" to put together a business plan for what he will do next. This business plan will the be key to assuring Dolores, his wonderful wife, that all will be well. Together, they want to continue enjoying the empty nest while their daughters are away; one at college, one recently graduated and working.
These are two good pieces of advice I received early in my working life that still ring true. Knowing how to slice steel or scoop ice cream is important.
In the early 1970's, my first "real" job was scooping ice cream for the Newport Creamery that used to operate on Central Ave in Pawtucket, Rhode Island. I learned quickly that the ice cream scoop needed to be wet to scoop the hard packed ice cream without breaking your arm.
The scoop shouldn't be dripping wet. That would bring water into the ice cream which would crystallize and make the ice cream more "ice" than cream. Taking the scooper from the little shelf where running water kept them wet, shaking it on a towel to remove the excess water, and then reaching in to the container to bring out the single or double scoop of maple walnut, pistachio, or one of the many other flavors that Newport Creamery was noted for was much easier that way.
I only worked at the take out counter for about six weeks before my father managed to get me into his steel mill, Washburn Wire Company in Phillipsdale, Rhode Island. This was a steel mill that had operated from the early 1900s. I felt like I was stepping back into time going there. I also tripled the hourly wage I was making so that was great.
If you were given a hatchet and asked to take a sample from that coiled steel rod, would you say something like: "You're crazy!" I did.
But it was true. Holding the end of the coiled steel with a pair of tongs, I would use the hatchet to slice about a foot off the rod. The sample would be put into a bucket for the metallurgist to test to ensure that the mill was running well. He would check to see that the rod was indeed being drawn into the round, oval or rectangular shape that the run required.
In the #2 Wire Mill, the rod started out in the furnace where the two-inch by six-inch billet was heated to approximately 1900 degrees F. It ejected from the furnace and was guided into a series of rollers.
There were four monstrous devices that at each step pulled the billet, shaping it and stretching it out from its original 30-foot length to end up coiled at my foot more than 300 foot in length. It was still so hot that stepping up to the coil, I could drop a candy wrapper into the center and in would incinerate before touching the ground as flakes.
Using the tongs, I grabbed the end of the rod, stretched it out over a cutting block and used the hatchet to slice off the sample. The key was to hit the steel while it was still pink. Once it started turning silver, the hatchet would bounce off. If a sample was really required from that coil, I would need to use some serious wire cutters. But as long as the steel was pink, the hatchet sliced it like butter.
I have not had much opportunity to cut steel recently but when scooping ice cream for dessert, the water trick works as well today as it did then.
[ At The Elder Storytelling Place today, Johna Ferguson deals with the difficulty of dressing for the holiday season in The Joy of Aging. ]