I’m caught in the circa circa circuit

I finished my last birdhouse for the season recently (unless someone says, “I’ll buy the lot - and 20 more.” Then I’ll build 20 more).


["A J.R. knock-off": photo GAH]

The last one was a knock-off of a J.R. Davidson model, circa 1945, and while selling a few houses recently from a display on my front lawn, a client asked a question that has led to more work in the wee shed.

[I say 'client' because it makes me sound like a working professional - and I was hoping she'd buy something!]

Lisa asked, “Is your chair for sale?”

Why yes it is, I thought. I can make more. My scrap lumber pile is pretty high right now. Got a million dollars?


["My version of a crate chair, circa 1937": photo GAH]

I said, “Yes, I’d sell it.”

She asked how much and I gave a price and she said that if I was selling them in the Muskokas I’d make a fortune and, though I liked the sound of that, I don’t want to be a large scale builder.

[Really. My shop would get too dusty. My motorcycle would sit idle too often. My mind and body would rebel at the prospect of too much work. I'd whine. I’d get tired and have to sit down and if I sold my chair I’d be right out of luck. I'd whine some more.]

Lisa liked the price and design (my version of a G. Rietveld crate chair, circa 1937) and subsequently placed an order for a matching pair.

She lives in the neighbourhood, circa 1930, and believes they’ll look great on her porch.

As for me, circa 1949, I have to agree with her.

Busy times ahead in the workshop.

***

Click here for photos and auction prices of Rietveld chairs.

How much should I charge for mine?

Is a million bucks a bit too high?

.