The Not-So-Dandy Engineer Square
Sitting here with my trusty cup of coffee, the steam swirling upwards, I’m reminded of a project I tackled last summer—one that makes me chuckle a bit when I think back on it. It all started with an old piece of plywood I found at the lumberyard. You know the kind—bent and rough, probably sitting there longer than anyone cared to admit. I thought, “Hey, I can build something with that!”
What was I thinking?
I decided to construct a small side table. Simple enough, right? Something to set your drink on while lounging on the porch—nothing fancy, really. But here’s where things went sideways. I had all these grand ideas in my head, but no real plans or blueprints. I grabbed my circular saw—an old Craftsman that’s been good to me over the years—and thought, “How hard could it be to get a perfect right angle?”
Well, my friend, I’ll tell you: it’s all about that engineer square.
That Moment of Truth
I was ready to dive in, and as I stood there in my little garage, a cacophony of sounds surrounded me. The smell of sawdust filled the air, a scent that always makes me feel like I’m home. But, as I pulled that old plywood onto my sawhorses, I was filled with a sort of confidence that comes from ignorance. I just knew I could eyeball it. You know how that goes—I chopped off one end, then the other, completely convinced I’d nailed it.
But then I set up my first piece and, oh man, was I in for a shock. I took a step back, and those angles? Let’s just say they were not even close to a right angle. It was as if I was trying to put together a jigsaw puzzle for a different puzzle. Frustration twisted in my gut, and I even let out a little laugh—honestly, what did I expect?
So, after a few choice words that I probably shouldn’t repeat, I reached for my engineer square. You know, that L-shaped tool that a real woodworker wouldn’t even think twice about using? I hadn’t touched it, thinking I could do this on my own. Foolish rookie mistake.
Turning Point
This square, oh my, it was like walking into a room full of light after stumbling around in the dark. I placed it against the plywood, and lo and behold—it confirmed that I was indeed off by a good quarter inch, maybe more. I almost gave up. I think there was a moment where I contemplated slapping that engineer square down in a fit of frustration and packing it all up, but instead, I took a deep breath.
I spent the next few hours re-cutting those angles, double-checking everything with that engineer square in hand, and gradually, I started to get it right. The sound of the saw became more melodic, the way it chewed through that plywood evenly made me feel like I was finally in control. I could almost feel that old Craftsman growling in approval.
Lessons Learned
Now, you might be wondering why I’m going on about an engineer square like it’s some grand revelation, but here’s the thing: I learned to respect the tools in my garage. Sometimes, in our rush to innovate and to create, we forget about the basics. That square didn’t just help me get my angles right. It reminded me that there’s value in precision. It’s not just about how quick you can go; it’s about how well you do it.
Fast forward to the end of that day, I stood back, sipping on my now cold coffee, and admired that side table. It wasn’t perfect—there were some gaps that weren’t supposed to be there, and the paint job was a tad rough (maybe I should’ve spent a bit more time sanding), but it was mine. And you know what? It felt good! I even laughed when I finally got the legs attached, standing there sturdy like they knew what they were doing.
The Warm Glow at the End
To anyone out there who’s thinking of diving into woodworking—don’t overthink it. Just go for it. Don’t be like me, staring at your materials and telling yourself you can eyeball it, because trust me, those corners can get tricky. Grab that engineer square; hell, buy two if you can afford it. They’re not just tools; they’re a signal that you’re committed to your craft, ready to bring precision to your projects.
At the end of the day, it’s all about enjoying the process, even when you mess up. The journey of building something from nothing is filled with moments that teach you, moments that remind you why you started in the first place. So, take a sip of that coffee, grab your tools, and dive in—there’s a world of possibilities just waiting for you.
