Poor Man's Anvil, Day 2

"I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free." Michelangelo would likely cringe to know what today reminds me of his famous quote, but as I watch the anvil emerge from the rusted 17" section of rail I can't help seeing the similarity, if in process only. One mishap: Keith was so eager to get to grinding this morning he forgot to don his leather apron; the front of his charcoal gray button-up shirt now bears an inverse souvenir, about 2" in diameter, of this new tool. And the whole metal shop, down to the toilet seat, is covered with a thin layer of fine black dust. No matter. This is a MasterCard commercial in the making:

Reclaimed railroad rail: $10

Grinding wheels: $10

Cutting wheels: $7.50

The (eventual) pleasure of using a tool you made for yourself: priceless.

If you can make a silk purse out of a sow's ear...

...why can't you make an anvil out of a piece of rail? This is the way Keith's mind works. Most of the day from the safety of Taproot's 113.5 square foot retail store, which doubles as the company office, I've been listening to the grinder compete with Chopin's Nocturnes (later Moby) as Keith molds a reclaimed section of railroad rail in the image of what he envisions needing in the way of an anvil when we get, or build, the forge early next year. He has historically used a Mig welder to fabricate his designs, but will unprompted wax poetic on the topic of what a forge will do for Taproot. In the meantime, as an expecting parent paints the nursery, Keith prepares the anvil.