The Lessons of Olson Cabinets & Woodworking Inc.
So, grab your coffee and settle in a bit. I want to share this little journey I had with Olson Cabinets & Woodworking Inc. It all started on one of those lazy Saturday mornings when the wife had other plans, and I found myself staring at a pile of wood in my garage. You know how it is, right? Just a dude, a little bit of a wild hair, and a whole lot of sawdust waiting to happen.
The Spark
I’d been thinking about redoing our kitchen cabinets for ages. They were still sporting that faux-wood laminate that used to be all the rage back in the ‘90s. I mean, bless ’em, but they were basically the color of a muddy puddle. So, I thought, “Why not take a whack at this myself and kick it up a notch?” That’s where Olson Cabinets came into the picture. A neighbor of mine had used them, and they raved about their custom designs.
I hopped onto their website, which was straightforward enough, and thought, "Okay, this is totally doable." I picked out some pine for base cabinets—good ol’ easy-to-work-with stuff—and oak for the uppers because, let’s face it, I always pictured a warm, inviting kitchen when I daydreamed about hosting family dinners.
Tools and Trips
Now here’s a little side note. I thought I had my tools pretty lined up. I had my trusty circular saw, a jigsaw for the fiddly bits, and my sweet little Kreg jig for pocket hole joinery. I thought, “Support beams? Nah, I don’t need thick boards. Two-by-fours should be fine.” Oh, the naiveté! Anyway, I made the trek down to the local hardware store—arms full of boards, my mind racing with ideas—and picked up some wood glue, clamps, and a couple gallons of paint.
And look, here’s where I hit my first hiccup. I got home and started cutting. The smell of freshly sawed wood wafting up—there’s nothing quite like it. But man, when I laid those pieces together, I swear they looked more like a Picasso painting gone wrong than a cabinet. Uneven cuts, slivers of wood everywhere, and some serious second-guessing on my part.
The Facepalm Moment
At one point, I almost tossed the whole project into the “you’re never going to finish this” pile. That moment was fueled by a mix of frustration and maybe a little too much coffee. I was trying to fit a door, and let me tell you, the feeling of “This was supposed to be easy” just loomed overhead like a thunderstorm.
But then I remembered what my buddy at Olson Cabinets said: “Don’t rush it, let the wood speak to you.” I thought, “What does that even mean?” But I took a moment, put down my tools, and sat on the garage floor surrounded by my mess. Honestly, it was kind of therapeutic. I started looking at the wood grains—the knots in the oak looked almost like art in themselves. It clicked. I needed to let it flow a little more.
Putting It All Together
Adapt and improvise, right? So, I spent the next couple of days calming down the chaos. I invested time in sanding—oh the glorious yet tedious sound of the sander buzzing. I tried a new paint technique I’ve seen online, mixing colors to get that rustic farmhouse vibe. I also learned that sometimes, it’s better to embrace the imperfections rather than trying to chase them away. The knots and uneven spots? Those became my little “character marks.”
I started piecing everything together again, letting my gentle obsession with detail guide me. It was a bit like building a puzzle where half the pieces ended up in the garage trash but then some of the odd ones fit right into place. And guess what? It started to look like an actual cabinet! I even had one drawer that slid out so smooth, it practically sang to me.
The Moment of Truth
Now, here’s the kicker. After a long week of toil and trial, it was time to install everything. I was nervous as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs. As I held up that final cabinet door, it just felt right. I couldn’t help but feel a wash of relief and excitement. When I tightened that last screw, I had a moment that honestly felt like a victory lap.
The first dinner at that kitchen table after everything was done was magical. Gathering the family together, I chuckled while serving dinner—each cabinet and drawer held stories, like tall tales of misadventure and triumph. It felt good, like, “Yeah, I did this.”
Takeaway
If you’re contemplating diving into a project like this, even if you’re not sure you can handle it, just go for it. You’re going to make mistakes, and it’s bound to get messy. But those moments—the mess and the frustration—they’ll shape your journey and, in the end, make it all worthwhile.
Remember, it’s about the experience, the scent of freshly sawed wood, the sweet sound of a drill, and even the laughter over the things that didn’t go as planned. So take a deep breath, grab your tools, and let your creativity out, messy imperfections and all. You might just surprise yourself with what you can create.
