My poor dad.. I don't quite know how he didnt get a little crazy everytime he went into his shed. I remembver going in there at least once a week because I just loved what an interesting place it was. But..not just settling for sharpening all his pencils with a chisel down to small stubs, I used to love his fishing rods and would practice my casting skills every opportunity that I could..I used to cast over the boundary fence and every time I reeled it in, there would be another small stick tangled in with big knots..When I was finished, I used to put them back and like magic, the next time that I went to practice my fishing skills, they'd be all clean and tidy and ready to go again..No knots or sticks to be seen..He never said a word..and I know that I wasnt the only one of 7 kids who loved going in there..