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A Swansea carpenter whose proudest commission was a rocking horse with one slightly opinionated ear.
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Peter has brought a photograph, not his tools, into the hospital. It shows the rocking horse he made for his daughter. One ear leans outward. He had planned to correct it, but his daughter declared that the horse was listening round a corner. After that, straightening the ear would have been an insult. Peter remembers the large furniture he made less clearly than that small decision. He turns the photograph towards the visitor chair. There, he says, is the only commission whose customer improved the design.
The bird table in Peter’s garden attracted sparrows, a determined pigeon and, once, a squirrel carrying half a biscuit. Peter had positioned it for a fine view from the kitchen. The pigeon positioned itself for a fine view of Peter. They became suspicious neighbours. A sketch of the table lies on his hospital tray, with the pigeon drawn much too large. Peter considers correcting the proportions. Then he remembers how much of the view the bird occupied and leaves the drawing alone.
A photograph of his old workbench shows three generations of initials on a plane handle. Peter used to think the oldest marks should stay sharp and legible. His hands gradually wore them smooth. Now he likes that evidence of use. On the back of the rocking-horse photograph, he writes the story of the crooked ear for his daughter. The horse itself needs no explanation. The note is simply something to put beside it, like another set of initials, added without sanding the others away.