Coffee, Wood Shavings, and Obelisks
So, let me take you back a few months to a Saturday that started off like any other. I had my coffee brewing—good ol’ Folgers, none of that fancy stuff, just what keeps you going—and I was staring at my garage. You see, I like woodworking. Not in any grand, professional sense; more like, “I have some tools and a bit of imagination, let’s see where this goes.” That Saturday, I found myself on a bit of a mission: I decided I was going to build an obelisk. Yeah, you heard me right. A bona-fide garden obelisk.
Now, while I wasn’t exactly planning on entering a woodworking competition or anything, I wondered, “Why not? How hard could it be?” Ever been that confident before you even started? I know I have, and it usually means I’m in for a tumble.
Getting Started
I took a quick inventory of what I had: a miter saw, a hand sander that had seen better days, and a drill that sometimes liked to act like it was on strike. I figured, “Alright, I can make this work.” So, I grabbed some cedar because, well, every article I read said it’s naturally weather-resistant and smells fantastic. I was pleasantly surprised by that aroma; it’s like the wood was whispering, “Let’s build something beautiful together.”
Now, I didn’t fully realize what I was getting into. I had a vague idea rattling around based from some Pinterest pins I’d saved during those long nights of scrolling aimlessly when I should’ve been sleeping. I started sketching some measurements on a scrap piece of plywood—my math isn’t the best, folks; it’s more “guesstimation” than actual measuring.
The First Mistake
Here’s where it started unraveling. I cut the first few pieces of cedar, watching the saw blade whirl through it effortlessly, but I got cocky. I thought, “What’s the rush, right? I’ll just eyeball these angles.” Yeah, let’s just say, what I ended up with was more like the Leaning Tower of Pisa than the majestic obelisk I had in mind. I looked at that first mishap and laughed so hard I almost spilled my coffee. It was honestly one of those moments. I could’ve sworn the wood was mocking me, “You thought you could wing it?”
I had to backtrack, which was frustrating. I spent about an hour just staring at those jagged edges like they were mocking me. In hindsight, I really should have taken the time to figure out the angles properly.
A Lesson in Patience
I took a deep breath, my coffee was cold by this point—maybe that was part of it?—and I decided to slow down. I pulled out my trusty square and measured things twice like my high school shop teacher had drilled into us. The second attempt was much cleaner; it felt satisfying to get that crisp cut. Each slice through the wood elicited that satisfying smell again, a mix of earthy cedar and just a touch of sawdust—I could live off this aroma.
There’s something almost therapeutic about woodworking. As I assembled the pieces, I focused on the rhythm of my drill and the satisfying clicks of the screws sinking into the wood. While I was at it, I should mention that my garage sounded like a mini construction site. I caught myself humming, lost in thought, feeling almost like I was in my own little world.
Building It Up
After a bit of trial and error, I had the pieces aligned correctly, and I finally felt like I was doing it right. Now comes the fun part: assembling everything! I was balancing these long rectangles of cedar, making sure they were square and not wobbling like a toddler on stilts. My neighbors must have thought I was starting some kind of wood symphony over there with all the grunts and the occasional shout of triumph when something actually fit together.
Every piece I connected felt like a small victory. I found myself grinning when my fingers brushed across those smooth edges, a contrast to the rough cuts from earlier. It’s like the wood was alive, and here we were, finally getting somewhere.
The Final Touches
After a grueling but satisfying afternoon, I was looking at this tall, proud creation that I had somehow put together. I mean, it wasn’t perfect. There were some gaps here and there, but it had character—you could say it was rustic. I decided to finish it off with some outdoor wood stain to protect it from the elements. The varnish smell filled the garage and made me feel all the more like a legitimate woodworker.
I went ahead and placed that obelisk right in the garden, and let me tell you, seeing that wooden tower soaring into the sky brought an absurd sense of pride. My wife, bless her heart, kindly complimented my “thing” and even mentioned it could turn into a trellis for climbing roses. I laughed—that was a bonus I hadn’t even considered!
The Takeaway
So, here’s the kicker from my little adventure with the obelisk: there might be messy beginnings, or even moments where you think you might just throw in the towel and let the wood take its own course. But stick with it. If you’re thinking about trying a woodworking project, just go for it. Learn from the mistakes, embrace the imperfections, and most importantly, don’t let that wood tease you into giving up.
All in all, that obelisk didn’t just end up being a striking feature in my yard; it stands as a testament to patience, determination, and a little creativity. I guess at the end of the day, it’s all about the journey, right? Pour yourself a cup of coffee and build something—anything, really. You might just surprise yourself.
