Village Voice April/May 2013 | Page 18

TRADESMAN’S ENTRANCE My Personal Handyman, who, when he retired, promised that we would spend lots more time together, has a little sideline which over the past three years has begun to overtake me as the focus of his attention. I once read in a magazine article aimed at retirees’ wives that after a month or so “…he’ll be getting under your feet when you’re trying to get on with your housework routine, so you should encourage him to take up a hobby”. I can’t begin to describe to you how, in so many ways, this little piece of folk wisdom does not sum up our situation. Firstly – housework routine? What’s that? I remember our daughter when very young catching me hoovering and asking seriously “Who’s coming?” Enough said. Secondly – under my feet? You must be joking! This is Hobbyman (which, now I think about it, is a much better name for him than Handyman). We’re lucky if we meet at mealtimes. In our time together he has embraced (apart from me of course) astronomy, photography, horse-riding, fencing, guitar-playing, archery, novel-writing, choir-singing and currently heraldry. All in depth, and most on-going. I don’t complain, in fact I’ve learnt much about all those subjects over the years, and sometimes got involved myself. For example in astronomy, I learnt a lot lying flat on my back on the coal bunker in the back garden at midnight (watching for meteors!) During the novel-writing, my experience as an editor came in handy for the proofreading, once I managed to get over the 16 hurdle of criticising the one I love without causing immense pain (I could tell you how, but I’d have to charge you for my time). Anyway, the latest: heraldry – not as dry as it sounds, because it actually involves making little decals or waterslide transfers as they are properly known, for war-gaming figures (or toy soldiers as I like to call them). It began as a hobby - the detail was too intricate to paint by hand, so he started computer-designing his own shields and other heraldic items and printing them on decal paper, to be cut out and applied to the figures. These were admired by online correspondents, who asked if he would do the same for them, and it has grown into a business. Not hugely profitable, it must be said, as you’d have to sell an awful lot of sheets of printed paper to get rich on it, but it keeps him off the streets. There came a time when PH felt that the web-site was not attracting enough attention, and that maybe he should get out there and meet some of the hobbyists to drum up business – or go out and do battle, as you might say if you were a war-gamer. He booked a table at a weekend war-gaming event which featured trader stands and table games for big boys. He had a six-foot table, with another behind to put the stock on, and twelve hours of visibility over two days. I went along as the glamorous assistant, (not really needed as it turned out, as they were the sort of customers who don’t meet your eyes when they ask for something. I mentioned this to another trader, who commented: “It’s because you’re a woman. They’re not used to talking to women.”). I spent most of the day directing enquiries to PH, being unable to answer questions on “Norwegian infantry from the 1540 - 1545 war of the succession” or suchlike. (I made that up, but you get the picture.) PH got into