Category Archives: Leonardo da Vinci Kit

Bonding II: It Really Was a Labor of Love

Find something you love

And do it forever…

~~Anon.

It’s a beautiful Sunday morning. Mt. Rainier is like a distant vision of adventure, challenge and alpine serenity. But we weren’t taking in that view. No, we, my daughter, her husband, Mariam, me and Elias were looking with admiration at the project. It sat, begging for a photo, on Erin’s kitchen table. Even Arlo the cat sat on a ledge and stared with feline admiration at the final, completed model of Leonardo da Vinci’s Ornithopter. I do believe that if Leo himself were there in the room, he would have nodded his artistic head in agreement.

It was done!

For those of you who read my previous post, you can testify to the challenges we faced in completing this unique design.

I jotted a few notes on the activity:

~Total time was approximately six days or eighteen hours.

~1 tube of Elmer’s Glue.

~1 toothpick.

~5 single sheets of toilet paper.

~2 bent paperclips.

~5 cups of Starbucks Cold Brew

And this didn’t include what came in the kit box.

Personal Comments: I’m glad we did it. It was a bonding experiences that went far beyond that of a grandfather and grandson. I wish to thank Bob for his architectural expertise and advise. Erin for taking the right photo at the right time. Mariam for threading tiny string into even tinier holes. Elias for finding the right piece for me when all the pieces looked exactly alike. Arlo for not jumping up on the table and knocking the kit to one side to get a cuddle from me (like he did when I was trying to read an interesting article in The Economist).

However, one question remains: Would I do it again?

Well, yes and no. Yes, if the kit contained six pieces and more glue. And no, not another kit that says 6+ years of age.

I just turned seventy-six. I’m beyond the age limit now.

[Elias poses proudly with the completed model. Photo is mine.]

I was planning on jumping off Erin’s roof just to see if Leonardo had really known what he was doing.

But everyone held me back.

How To Bond With Your Grandson Whilst Assembling a Leonardo da Vinci Ornithopter Kit

[The kit in question. Photo is mine.]

As Mariam and I were sitting on our teal sectional in our comfortably down-sized apartment in New York City, we began planning for a trip.

It seems like we just got back from two months in Europe, but this was a special trip indeed. Due to factors out of her control, my daughter, Erin, was unable to travel east and visit us in our new apartment. She lives in Washington State, just south of Seattle. Now, since I wouldn’t have a chance to take my grandson to the Museum of Natural History and show him the big dinosaurs and the whale hanging from the ceiling, it was up to us to fly to Seattle and visit my family there. My daughter had planned to take us to Northwest Trek to view bald eagles, snowy owls and bobcats.

But, what was I, the grandfather, going to do to make our visit really special for my grandson? How could I find a real ‘bonding experience’ to help him remember me between the long time between the visits?

Like a good Grandpa hoping to solve this issue…I googled.

I knew whatever I chose had to involve glue, pieces of wood and some string. He’s is a very bright ten-year-old so my choice had to be somewhat challenging.

Several clicks into my search, I struck gold. It was a wooden kit, taken from a da Vinci design, of a flying machine. I looked closely at the product description. These photos are taken from the box:

[Take note of the first line. I will come back to that later in the blog. Photo is mine.]

[Take note of the Age 9+ box. I’ll be referring to that later in the blog. Photo is mine.]

[Note the simple Step by Step Instruction Manual. I will be referring to this later in the blog. Photo is mine.]

Where was I? Okay, since there were time restraints, I had the kit mailed directly to my daughter’s address. I’m pleased to say that it arrived the day we landed. {Side note: One of The Jet Blue in-flight movies was My Sailor, My Love. I recommend it. Food was so-so but the leg room was enough for my chronic restless legs, but that’s a different blog for another time.}

On the way back from the airport, my daughter stopped at the Post Office. There it was! I brought the box home to my grandson. He looked it over and approved it. Age skill level was correct. And, the time to complete the model fit in with our schedule of things to do and see…here in the shadow of Mr. Rainier.

That very afternoon, grandpa and grandson opened the box, sorted the pieces, looked over the instructions and settled at the dining room table to begin our bonding/construction experience. He was great at finding the right pieces in the plastic bag full of pieces. I handled the glue. When his dad came home from work, we were half-way through Step 1 (that would be completing 50% of the first page.) We had been at work for about three hours. Undeterred, I set everything aside for dinner. The next day would be pretty much free to finish the model.

Midway through the second day, the word glitch kept coming to mind. I didn’t say anything to my grandson for fear of upsetting him. But, I couldn’t find him. He was busy in his bedroom playing with his cat and iPad and reading a book. Here, I will admit that I went out into their backyard, behind the spare room, beside the tomato plants and beat my fists against the wall. No one could hear me scream.

“Hey, dude,” I said, grandfatheringly. “I need help in finding the thing that has three slots and two holes.”

“Be right there, grandpa,” he said. He gave the cat a final stroke and whispered: “I’ll be right back, Arlo, grandpa is in trouble”.

Progress on the model got worse and then went downhill from there.

But, I had a few aces up my sleeve. 1) My wife. She has a Master’s degree. And, 2) My son-in-law. He’s an architect. He knows about these things.

[My son-in-law, Bob. He knows about these things. Photo is mine.]

We came to the conclusion that ‘spacers’ were different from things that looked like ‘spacers’, and that the bottom was unclear, unclear until I glued the base. The ‘front’ and the ‘back’ became problematic.

I kept eyeing the wings. I can do those, I thought to myself.

My wife and had reservations to fly back to JFK on Monday. I contemplated letting her go on and I would stay another week or two to finish the model, but my daughter had a trip planned, so that wouldn’t work.

My dear wife kept saying something to the effect of:

“Remind us never to order another kit again.”

“But, this isn’t like the last time. I will never leave them with something like that ever again. I was referring to a project from several years that…never mind. “I will do this, I promise.”

Soon, four of us gathered around the table and tried to sort out where this piece was to slot into that piece.

[This is the situation as of three hours ago. Approximately 2:00pm on August 12. Photo taken by my daughter, Erin.]

So, tomorrow, Sunday, is our last full day here. I don’t plan on spending too many hours completing the model. I will not, can not and would never leave them with another kit. That was a small metal dinosaur kit, “Easy and Fast to Assemble” purchased from the Natural History Museum in NYC. When that trip ended, there was a pile of metal bits and microscopic screws & nuts in the corner of the dining room. I went to the airport with tiny bits of blood on my forefinger and thumb.

Never again.

Next visit? A small backyard-sized working kit of small Colliding-beam Storage Ring Particle Accelerator Unit.