Coffee, Sawdust, and a Little Heartbreak: My Journey with Hummel Woodworking in Waterloo
So, picture this: it’s a chilly Saturday morning in Waterloo, Ontario. I’m curled up on my couch with a cup of strong black coffee—yeah, the kind that makes your heart race a little—and I’m feeling a mix of hope and anxiety about a project I’m diving into. I’ve been eyeing some beautiful cherry wood at Hummel Woodworking, and I can’t stop thinking about what I could create. You know how that is, right? The smell of fresh wood and those dreams just waiting to be turned into reality.
Let me backtrack a little. Hummel Woodworking isn’t just a shop to me; it’s like this hidden treasure chest filled with possibilities. You walk in, and honestly, you can smell the wood—like a campfire but all the good parts, you know? The air’s thick with creativity. The folks there? Super nice. They always seem to know just the right piece of wood to steer me toward. One time, I was looking for something lighter and softer, and I ended up with a beautiful piece of poplar that I thought would be perfect for a bookshelf.
But I’ll tell you, it wasn’t all smooth sailing—oh no. Now, I remember the first project I tackled after leaving the shop. I decided to make a a display for our family photos. Nothing too fancy, just a simple frame with space for a few different sizes of pictures. Honestly, it seemed foolproof. I had my trusty Ryobi circular saw, and some basic clamps to keep everything in place. I was feeling like a woodworking pro!
First mistake? I didn’t take enough time to measure. I thought, “What’s the worst that could happen?” Spoiler alert: it could go very, very wrong. After cutting the first few pieces, I stood back to admire my…well, disaster. I’d miscalculated the dimensions, and let’s just say the frame would have been perfect for, I dunno, a dollhouse? Yeah, a dollhouse.
There I was, standing in my garage, staring at this awkwardly small frame, and I swear I almost threw my coffee across the room in frustration. I chuckled at how ridiculous it looked, and I could almost see my family’s faces when I presented this tiny square of wood with family photos they would have needed a magnifying glass to see.
But after the laughter tapered off—because you know you sometimes have to laugh to keep from crying—I realized it wasn’t the end. It felt like a tiny defeat, but I shoved that dollhouse frame into the corner and decided to give it another shot. This time, I spent a solid hour just measuring and re-measuring everything. And boy, that was the real lesson. Patience and precision really are key in woodworking. I busted out my tape measure more times than I care to admit, making sure I was laying it on the surface exactly right.
I opted for a stronger joinery technique this time, and went with pocket holes to assemble the frame. I had recently picked up a Kreg Jig, which is this nifty tool that makes joining pieces of wood a breeze. The sound of the drill whirring through that cherry was almost soothing. It’s funny how you can go from feeling frustrated to finding pure joy in the rhythm of the tools. There’s something meditative about it, just the hum of the drill, the smell of sawdust slowly collecting on the floor.
And let me tell you, when I finally stepped back to take a look at the finished frame, I felt like I’d just conquered an empire. It was still a simple design, but it worked! I sat there for a moment, running my hand over the smooth surface, admiring my handiwork. I felt this swell of pride, as if I’d just built the Taj Mahal or something.
But wait, there’s more! You think it’s all smooth sailing from there? Oh, not quite. I wanted to finish it off with this beautiful stain I’d picked up—Minwax‘s Dark Walnut or something like that. It smelled so good, like rich nuts and caramel. But here’s where the wheels started to wobble again. I didn’t test it on a scrap piece first, which was a huge mistake. I, uh, went right for the frame.
The stain absorbed unevenly, and parts of it looked almost blotchy. At that moment, my heart sank. I was almost ready to give up—again—and just accept defeat. I was Googling “how to fix stain problems” when a little voice in my head popped up and said, “You can fix this.” So I mixed up a little bit of mineral spirits and started experimenting.
After a few more tries, I figured it out. I managed to achieve this beautiful, rich finish that I loved. And can you believe it? I finally had a decent piece to display family photos in! The kids brought their friends over, and when they asked who made it, I couldn’t help but puff out my chest a little.
Now, looking back, that whole journey, with the mistakes and the moments of doubt, was worth it. Hummel Woodworking became even more special—not just a shop, but a source of inspiration and lessons learned.
So, my friend, if you ever find yourself tempted to dive into woodworking but feeling overwhelmed or intimidated by all the tools and techniques, please—just go for it. Embrace the imperfections, because in the end, it’s those little struggles that make the finished piece feel truly yours. I wish someone had told me that sooner. Just dive in, make mistakes, and laugh it off. You’ll surprise yourself.
