The Journey of Tim Ashley Woodworks: A Brewed Adventure
Alright, so picture this: I’m sitting at my kitchen table, fingers wrapped around a steaming mug of coffee, the rich aroma of dark roast swirling in the air. It’s one of those crisp mornings in my little town, where the sun barely peeks through the clouds, and honestly, it’s about the perfect weather to reflect on my woodworking adventures. You know, the ones that make you laugh, cringe, and sometimes toss your hands in the air like a referee calling a foul.
So, let’s chat about Tim Ashley Woodworks.
My Humble Start
I still remember the first time I even thought about woodworking. It was like a whisper in the back of my mind—I’d visited my buddy Mike’s place, and there he was, crafting a beautiful walnut bookshelf. I was just blown away by how much character it had. And I thought, “Hey, how hard can it be?” Spoiler alert: much harder than it looks!
One afternoon, I decided to give it a go. I grabbed a couple of 2x4s from the lumber yard, thinking I could whip up a bench for the backyard. Let me tell ya, I had absolutely zero clue what I was doing. I barely even knew the difference between pine and cedar. So, I pulled out my trusty old circular saw from the garage—rusty and loud as a bus engine, but it did the job.
I figured I’d cut the pieces down to size—easy peasy, right? Wrong. That saw shook like it was ready to take off, and I accidentally lopped off a chunk of my own finger instead of the wood. The blood wasn’t pouring or anything, just a little slice, but I almost passed out in my own garage. The smell of sawdust was mixed with my panic, and I was half-laughing, half-cursing myself. You’d think that would be a wake-up call, but no, I kept on.
Lessons through Mistakes
Now, about that bench—let me tell you, it should have been a simple project. I had it all drawn up on graph paper, going for that rustic look with some screws and wood glue, but between working late and the kids running around, I managed to miscalibrate the dimensions by a good six inches. I mean, we’re talking a bench that would fit maybe one and a half people at best. I almost gave up right then and there, convinced I should trade in my toolbox for a puzzle set or something. But you know what? I ended up just improvising, and that little bench turned into a cozy perch for my daughter’s fairy garden.
And honestly, that’s when it clicked. Sometimes what you might think is a failure can turn into a unique feature. Kind of like life, huh?
The Smells and Sounds
Each project has its own smell. I mean, there’s nothing like the scent of fresh cedar wafting through your garage. It’s an earthy, comforting aroma that makes you feel like you’ve stepped into a cozy cabin. I had a phase where I obsessed over making cheese boards. The sound of my block plane gliding over the surface of the hardwood, followed by a gentle whiff of oil finish, may as well be music to my ears. The satisfying thunk of the hammer hitting a nail just hits an emotional note, even if it’s just me working late into the night.
But there was that one time I splurged on a fancy bag of cherry wood. Grapevine Lumber sent it over, and there’s this sweet, kind of fruity scent to it. I was pumped! I envisioned the most beautiful table, but the night before I was set to start, I accidentally left my can of varnish open in the garage. When I went in the next morning, it was like a scene from a horror movie. Sticky puddles everywhere and an awful sheen of oil swallowing my cherry wood. I laughed at my own misery because what else could I do? It took some extra hours to clean up, but I still used that cherry wood—just a little rougher around the edges than I’d initially planned.
Finding My Groove
Most days, the rhythm of woodworking feels almost meditative. Like, I can pop on my headphones, crank up some old blues, and just let my mind wander while I’m chiseling out drawer fronts or sanding down a tabletop. There’s truly something magical about turning raw pieces of wood into a functional piece of art.
I remember this one cold night—probably in November—working on a dresser for the kids. The garage was chilly, and I could hear the wind howling outside. I’d pulled out my old belt sander, which sounds like a bumblebee on steroids. With dust flying everywhere, I started wishing I had a fancy dust collector like my woodworking neighbor. But then I laughed because that belt sander has a charm to it. It reminds me of being new and fumbling, which makes every piece feel a bit more personal.
The Warm Takeaway
All this rambling brings me to a point, which I wish someone had told me earlier. If you’re sitting there thinking about diving into woodworking—maybe inspired by a friend or just a spark in your heart—go for it. I mean it! You’ll mess up and find weird blends of wood that you’d never have imagined would work together (pine and mahogany definitely shouldn’t, but hey, who am I to judge?).
Sure, you’re going to bump your head against some walls, scrape some knuckles, and question your entire existence when your project just doesn’t come together. But those moments, the good, the bad, they shape not just your skills, but who you are in the process.
So grab that saw and take the plunge. If nothing else, you’ll end up with some great stories to tell over that mug of coffee.
