A Journey into Monique Woodworking
You know how sometimes you just stumble into something that ends up changing your life a little? Well, that’s how I got wrapped up in woodworking, especially the stuff I like to call Monique woodworking. It sounds fancy, right? But it’s really just my name, and I guess when you’re doing something often enough, you start to make it your own.
It all began on a cold November afternoon, after a long day at the shop. I had just come home from work, and I found myself staring at a piece of old oak that I’d picked up from a friend’s barn for—get this—only ten bucks! I remember the smell. It had that sweet, earthy aroma that real wood gives off, you know? It reminded me of my granddad’s workshop. Anyway, I sat there, coffee in hand, wondering what on earth I could possibly make out of it.
That First Project: A Table
The grand vision was to craft a coffee table. Simple enough, right? Ha! Little did I know that I was stepping into a world of splinters and shattered dreams. I’ll admit, I dove in headfirst without a clue. I had a circular saw, some clamps (a couple of them weren’t even the same size), and a spirit level that was a little on the wonky side.
Looking back, I almost gave up when I realized I didn’t even have proper dimensions squared away. My wife will tell you, math and I don’t get along. I cracked open a few woodworking books but struggled to get past the first couple of chapters. I guess I thought “just wing it” would be my mantra. So, I cut the wood down to what I thought was the right length. I can’t tell you how many times I muttered “measure twice, cut once,” only to turn around and do just the opposite.
So there I was, with my pieces laid out like some crazy jigsaw puzzle, and I finally figured it was time to glue them together. Roll with it, right? I used this Titebond III glue—they say it’s the best for wood, and I figured, “Hey, if it works for the pros, it should work for me!”
You can imagine my surprise when the pieces didn’t line up perfectly. It felt a bit like trying to put together a badly made IKEA set with no instructions.
The Turning Point
The turning point came one late evening, after I had put in hours of work that looked like nothing more than an amateur’s daydream. I had a sense of defeat bubble up inside me as I wiped the sweat from my brow. I slammed my palm on the table (or what I thought was going to be a table) and just thought, “What am I doing? Why is this so hard?”
But then I had a moment. I looked at that unfinished piece of wood and remembered my granddad telling me that if you don’t mess up, you’re not learning. So, I laughed a little at my own frustration and went back to the garage. At that moment, I decided that I wasn’t just going to let this oak beat me.
I pulled out my sander—a Ridgid, tough little thing, you know? The way the sander buzzed as it worked the wood into a smoother finish was somehow therapeutic. And I began to see it… the wood grain, those little imperfections. They weren’t mistakes; they were character.
Things Took a Turn… for the Better
After what felt like forever, I attached the legs, and suddenly, it actually started looking like a table! I couldn’t believe it. The first time I placed a mug on it and sat back, I nearly spilled coffee everywhere from shock. I laughed and felt this warmth spread through me like I had just discovered gold at the end of a rainbow.
But, of course, it wasn’t all rainbows and butterflies. The first time I stained it, I chose this dark walnut color that, oh boy, did not go as I envisioned. It ended up looking more like a black hole than a fancy coffee table. And then there was the regret of not wearing gloves. My hands were stained for a week! My wife thought I had gone rogue and was trying to paint my way to becoming a more “stylish” husband.
Eventually, after learning what not to do, I landed on a lighter finish that showcased the oak’s beauty. I remember sitting there, basking in the glow of my newly stained table, and thinking—if it were a dinner party, that table would be the star of the show.
The Essence of Monique Woodworking
What started as a simple project turned into a journey of discovery. Monique woodworking became my own little escape; it’s how I unwind after wrestling with a long day. And every time I sit with my family around that awkwardly perfect coffee table, I smile, knowing it wasn’t smooth sailing all the way through.
So, if you’re mulling over trying woodworking, hear me out: Just go for it. Don’t be afraid to mess up. I wish someone had told me that sooner. It’s not just about the end product; it’s about the process and the lessons you learn along the way. Embrace the chaos and, most importantly, enjoy the journey. You might surprise yourself with what you can create—even if it takes a little longer or costs you some stained hands. Trust me, those moments will become the stories you cherish.
