Rough Wood

If you have been a regular reader (thank you!), you may have noticed that I’ve not been posting much—for a while now. In the interest of explanation, and as a genuine observation on the place that woodworking has in my life, I’ve decided to explain why. Maybe it will be of use to you; maybe it will be of use to me. But we’re here to talk and share and think about woodworking, and we so rarely discuss woodworking outside the context of its being a hobby (except in the case of such things as charity and fellow-woodworkers-in-need). That said, I’ve debated a post on this subject for almost a year… So here we go!

I spent a large part of the last year in the midst of a divorce. Sometimes life gets in the way of living, and we have to step back and consider where we spend our time and energy, our love and attention, and our money. My enthusiasm for wood and woodworking (and hand tools, let’s be honest) cannot be disparaged. My time and energy, love and attention, and money, apparently, can. I had Big Plans for many projects. I finally had a usable workbench. Full speed ahead. Then, suddenly, it was all so unimportant in the grand scheme.

Upon later reflection, I realized that I had spent an inordinate amount of time making stuff for the ex. Cutting boards, kitchen stuff, planters and trinkets, aids for the aging cats—that sort of thing. The plans for bigger stuff were related to our collective needs. In the face of the split, it was hard to think about spending so much time toiling away on things that would have been for both of us. So I planned some projects for me, like some funky speaker stands that are also floor lamps, which I will post about once I get a little further on them.

Shortly afterwards, I discovered rock climbing, as a way to clear my head and get some exercise, and it became a more effective (and more social) way for me to spend my spare time. Productivity was less important than getting my bearings, so up I went. I’m happy to say that it has become one of my favorite things, and I wish I had started when I was younger.

But I digress, as I often do. So what am I on about here?

It is a rare opportunity—when one finds oneself suddenly standing at the edge of a giant crack in the ground, and can stare into everything that has been known and unknown, all at once. I found that I have a passion for wood—the mechanics of it, the tools used to work it, joinery, discussions about technique, and the occasional near-miss accident. Yes, even tool wars. I also found that, at least at this stage in my life, I don’t run to woodworking as an escape as I once did. It is not an island oasis for me to strand myself upon in times of stress and difficulty; it is a place I go when I need something—when I want to enjoy the process of designing and making that thing myself. It is not a place I will go every night and/or weekend just because it’s there. It is a place I will go to enrich myself, to learn and to grow, whenever it is right.

That sounds like evolution to me. It sounds like a maturation of my concept of woodworking as it relates to my life. Oddly, it coincides with my long aspirations to get back into being an actual artist. As I stare at 50 square feet of veneer on the floor in my office, neatly arranged by shade and texture, wood is now a part of that goal too.

Of course, I’ll post about that some day…

Next up, however, a walnut trestle table and matching benches. Stay tuned, and thanks!

I worked the Harry Potter angle for Halloween. Yeah, that’s me.

People have told me that I look like him for years, and I had an occasion to change up my costume this year. I bought the robe, a tie and some glasses. I considered buying the wand. After shopping around I saw that most of them are really cheapo plastic things, the others expensive and overkill for something that would only see the light of day once a year.

Now, I’m no Harry Potter geek, but steps had to be taken. I mean really, a woodworker bringing more plastic into the world, plastic that’s molded and shaped to look like wood. That’s just crazy.

So I decided to make one. During a work crunch. With a $15 set of cheap carving tools that I had originally bought to carve pumpkins.

Questionable judgment aside, it turned out reasonably well for my first carving project. I used some thick avocado dowel that I had bought for something else. I sat on the floor in my office and started hacking away during renders. Unfortunately I didn’t get any shots of the process. I only had a little time to stop and tinker, and just dove in. I referenced photos of props to get the size and general shape of the thing. The original design involved 2 different woods, so there was some delineation to imply.

I learned a lot about carving in those hours of chopping at this rod of avocado. Most importantly, that I was afraid of the grain. I have spent so much energy and effort avoiding tear-out in unsupported grain while working on furniture and other construction-type projects that I spent several hours trying to not carve. I nibbled little hints of twists and and tweaks in the supposedly knotty old wood that made up the handle. I was satisfied enough at the time, but looking at it the next day, I realized that I had made a wooden version of the cheapo plastic wands…

So I got cocky the next day, as it seemed at the time, and just started going at it. I dug deeper and deeper into the wood. I felt reckless and irresponsible; I was crossing the streams.

But it looked a lot better.

After a few more hours I had a much better approximation of the 2 woods that were used in the original wand design. As I erased the tiny scribbles that I had sheepishly scratched into the wood before, I began to feel happier with the results. It was not a work of art by any stretch, but at least it was deliberate.

Now, here’s what I got really wrong. This was also my first time using shellac, and as an experiment I counted on the shellac for the coloration. I knew better, but was in a hurry and powered through it. So I had to use a lot of shellac. The result? Two different colors, neither of which is quite right, and a lot of shine. I will knock it down some day, and might even refinish it with some stain. Also, I have to give The Woodshop Widget another shout, because I was able to mix very small amounts of shellac for this small project. Good times.

As for the potential refinish, I feel like I’m a few steps ahead, having gone through the process in the first place, so I’ll see how much energy I have when Halloween rolls around next year and I dust it off.

Snausages was one of the best friends I’ve ever had.

She had a fun name, which was given to her by a neighbor, before my time. She was from the wrong side of the tracks. When she moved in with me she rose to the occasion. I wouldn’t allow her to demand attention of me, then swat at me when I touched her anywhere below her head—water in a spray bottle works wonders with cats. She became one of the most loving animals I’ve ever known. She was adorable of course, and she tolerated my photographic experiments. She was a good subject.

About 18 months ago, she fell from the internal balcony of our townhouse condo, breaking her pelvis in two locations. She was up and ready to walk in 2 weeks. She later went through a number of intense health issues, only to bounce back into perfect friend mode. She was always around when I was sick, and she loved to sleep in my lap for hours on end, preferably in whatever position was most uncomfortable for me.

As many of those health issues slowly wore her down, in the last few weeks she had been on the decline. On Saturday, we had to let her go. It’s not the first time, and it won’t be the last, but that familiar vacuum is very present today. “The Longest Hour” is that last hour that we had with her before our vet appointment. It was absolutely terrible, but I’m happy for every second of it. She fell asleep on my chest for the last time.

You may wonder why I’m posting this here. Beyond sharing our grief in this now-familiar forum, she was one of the original reasons for my finally taking the plunge into woodworking. After her fall she had trouble getting into the bed with us, so I planned to make a bench that she could use to step up. I made a tiny table for food bowls after she suddenly went blind due to hypertension (a condition from which she recovered); I made a little ottoman/step for her favorite chair because she couldn’t handle the jump by herself; I made a ramp for her litter box as she began having trouble getting over the edge.

This is an example of the many things that affect our lives in unexpected ways—of how a pet can become an unforeseen source of inspiration, or necessity. As well, woodworking improved her life just as it has improved mine. I might go so far as to say that my “hobby” helped to keep her with us for just a little while longer.

So thank you, Snausages, for everything. We love you and we miss you terribly. I will think of you fondly when I am building things, and I can’t thank you enough for that.