A Cup of Coffee and a Woodworking Adventure
You know, there’s just something about taking a hammer to a piece of wood that makes you feel alive. I was sitting there, in my little garage workshop last Saturday morning, with the smell of fresh pine wafting through the air and the sun just starting to break through the trees. It reminded me of the time I decided to take a woodworking class from none other than Ben Napier himself. Ah, what a ride that was.
Now, I’ve always loved the idea of building stuff. Growing up, my dad had this old stack of woodworking books that I’d drag out whenever I felt a little extra curious. I still remember the first project I tried to make—a birdhouse, simple enough. I ended up with more nails in my fingers than in the wood and that glorious smell of varnish turned into a regretful “why on earth did I think this was a good idea?” I think it took me two months just to build the birdhouse, messy as it was. But hey, it had personality!
Fast forward a few years, and Ben Napier comes to town for a woodworking workshop. Now, let me tell you, this was a big deal for our small community. Photos of him and Erin decorate the local diner. Folks here have been following their show and know all about their love for turning old wood into beautiful things. So, when I found out there was a chance to learn from him, I was all in.
Show Up and Brace Yourself
The class was held at the high school shop, and when I walked in, I felt a wave of nostalgia. The smell of sawdust and the buzz of machinery hit me like an old friend. Ben greeted us all with that genuine smile of his, and honestly, it felt like sitting down with a neighbor. He had this way of explaining the tools like they were family—“This is your circular saw. Treat her well, and she’ll treat you well back.” I chuckled a little thinking about all the “treatments” I’d given my old saw in my garage—mostly yelling and frustration.
So we dive right into it, and before I knew it, I was holding a piece of beautiful cherry wood in my hands, feeling fancy and accomplished. But let me tell you, the first time I picked up that router, the nerves kicked in. I could almost hear my dad’s voice in my head saying, “Now don’t mess it up like that birdhouse, boy!” I carefully set it up, making sure the bit was in tight because there was no way I was going to let that thing fly out of my hands.
But still, the first time I touched the wood with the router, I just about panicked. The noise it made—grinding, whirring—was enough to make anyone second-guess their sanity. What was I thinking? Was I really ready for this?
Learning the Hard Way
You know, it wasn’t just the tools that intimidated me; it was also the amount of pressure I felt. Everyone around me seemed to know exactly what they were doing. I almost gave up when I was working on my first actual project—a small side table. I distinctly remember measuring twice and cutting once, and somehow still missing the mark. The piece ended up looking like a lopsided potato when I finally stood it up. Everyone else was making these beautiful pieces, and here I was, fighting to have something that resembled a table.
But something clicked in me during that moment of defeat. I realized that woodworking was about more than just the project; it was about the process. So, I drafted some plans on a scrap piece of wood, and I started again. Ben walked by and offered some encouragement, saying, “Mistakes are part of the game.” His simple words struck a chord. I felt a renewed sense of purpose.
The Swell of Success
After a long day of sawing and sanding—because boy, did I sand like the world was ending—I finally finished that ugly little side table. And you know what? When I put those legs on and stood it up, I might as well have been holding up a trophy. I laughed out loud; it was goofy and wonky but it was my goofy and wonky creation.
And yeah, when I got home, I stained it with this deep walnut finish. The smell was intoxicating—warm and earthy, filling my garage while I wiped down that wood. Sitting back, admiring my work with a cup of coffee, I thought, "If I can do this, anyone can.”
Remembering the Journey
So, if you’re thinking about picking up woodworking—whether you’ve built a dozen birdhouses or you’ve never held a chisel—just go for it. It doesn’t matter how pretty or perfect your projects turn out in the beginning. There’s a special kind of magic in the mistakes and the learning. It’s like life, really. Every splinter, every janky cut, it all rolls into something that turns into your story.
For me, it was a workshop with Ben that reignited my love for woodworking, reminding me that it’s not about the end result. It’s about the journey—the smells, the sounds, the laughter when things work, and sometimes when they don’t. So grab a piece of wood and some tools, and dive in. Trust me, it’s worth every moment.
