Nails!!

Have you ever really considered the many different varieties of nails that exist? Neither had I…

There are what I call ‘regular’ nails. They come in different “penny” sizes. I know this only because my grandfather was a carpenter. Sadly, if he had not been around my education in nails would have been sorely lacking. I’ve often wondered about that penny nomenclature. I’ll probably go do some research since the time seems right for it. I’ll hazard a guess before I do that, however. I’d say…and only because I know such quirks in our language exist…that the designation came about in England and has to do with the size and weight in regards to their currency. Now, I may be way off base on this. It may have more to do with how many cents it cost get a pound of a certain size nail, I don’t know. I think I’ll go find out. My curiosity is really piqued now…

Okay…I was close, sort of… I found a rather humorous site with a pretty good explanation of where the name came from. It’s located at http://www.inthewoodshop.org/general/wwa20.shtml and the article is entitled “What The Heck Do Pennies Have To Do With Nails?” It seems that it came about in the 1400’s. A 6d, or 6 penny, nail was one that a blacksmith charged you six pennies for to make 100 two-inch nails. I think I’d have to say I’m more familiar with the 10d, or 10 penny, nails—they’re about three inches long.

I can say I know the difference between a penny type nail and a finishing nail—the latter is what I consider headless. I know it’s so that it can be countersunk and won’t show but when I was a kid, it was headless. I didn’t know about countersinking then—I had to spend years watching Bob Vila and Norm Abrams on PBS to gain an appreciation of that. When I was a kid and had to use a nail, I didn’t want no stinkin’ headless nail!! I wanted one I could grab hold of with a claw hammer in case the hammer misfired. You couldn’t get hold of a headless nail—there’s nothing to grab onto!! Well, we both know there is…now. But back then, security lay in those wide heads that got caught in the claw. Trust me, my hammer misfired a fair amount.

I was smarter than the average bear, though. I knew what a carpet tack was. They were those squat, chubby black things that were never sharp enough unless you found them with your foot. Not long enough to be useful for anything—and WHO ever heard of tacking down your carpet. Good grief!! They were the ugliest little things I’d ever seen…but my hammer misfired less with them…

Just about the time I thought I had things figured out someone came along and mentioned brads. Then, I was thoroughly confused. What do those little metal thingies that we used to hold our paper projects together with in school have to do with building things. I honestly couldn’t see where they could be of much use. You certainly couldn’t drive them with a hammer, you’d squash them right off!! A little while after that I found out that he was talking about a different type of brad. Then, you look at one and, it’s a case of, “Wait a minute!! This is a finishing nail, right? It’s a test, right?” Well, they do look similar…

Now, I bet you’ve been wondering where this is going. You have to admit, it does seem a bit of a departure from where I seemed to be heading earlier but then circumstances in life seem to dictate more about where we go, sometimes. Case in point….

I headed off to work this morning, thoroughly anticipating my first cup of coffee. I’m very fortunate to have an employer that furnishes us with coffee…that being a subject for another day. Anyway, I don’t live very far from work and have taken to heading in early before the workday starts and relaxing—translated psyching myself up—before I start another day. Don’t get me wrong. I really enjoy where I work now and what I do. You have to admit, though, that spending eight hours a day working in Customer Service can get to be a little trying sometimes. Each day is a new adventure and a nice cup of coffee and quiet time before the onslaught is always a good idea. So, here I am, pulling into an empty parking lot and nabbing my usual space. I go through my usual routine, click the automatic lock (love those things), get out, shut the door, pull up on the handle to make sure it worked (love ‘em, don’t necessarily trust ‘em). All’s well in my world. Normally, at this point, I’d head for the door. This morning, however, I happened to glance down and saw a nail sticking out of my rear tire about 3/8”-1/2”…it’s head a little bent on one side as if he was tipping his hat at me. Yes, I have flights of fancy, I admit it.

At this point, the normal person would mutter a four-letter word. Not me!! I did something far sillier. I reached down and grabbed hold of it to see if I could pull the nail out of the tire. Zowie!! I could, and it came right out and then I heard, “psssssssssss…” Like I’d hear ANYTHING else???? You know what I thought next?? Hmmmm, I wonder if I can put this nail back in the hole? Seriously, I considered it!! The only thing that stopped me is that I realized the person that is usually standing on the back porch of the building smoking when I get there in the morning, was standing there watching what I was doing. Never one to willingly look silly, I nonchalantly went about my business, went in the building, and got my coffee like nothing had happened.

Strangely enough, I have a workmate that says I provide her constant entertainment every day. I don’t try to…it’s just a gift. It must be catching because I seemed to be entertaining quite a few of them today.

Oh, I almost forgot! The nail from the tire?? It was a 10d nail. Well, it always has been my favorite size.