Just a Guy in My Garage: The Journey of Michael Dunbar Woodworking
You know how they say that woodworking is like therapy? Well, I’m here to tell you it can also be a real mental roller coaster. So, pull up a chair, grab a coffee—my favorite’s still that local blend from Sarah at the corner café—and let me spin you a yarn about my adventures with wood and tools, courtesy of my good ol’ buddy Michael Dunbar.
Now, some folks might not know him, but Michael Dunbar’s books and teachings on woodworking have been my lifeline. They’re like those dog-eared pages in your favorite bedtime story; you just keep flipping back to learn something new, something that might save your sanity—or your last piece of walnut.
The First Project and a Big Mistake
I remember starting this woodworking journey with stars in my eyes. I wanted to create a beautiful coffee table, you know, something that would make friends ooh and ahh when they saw it. I went down to the lumber yard and picked out some beautiful, rich walnut. Man, I could almost smell the warm, nutty scent just standing next to it. I bought all the tools I thought I’d need—miter saw, hand chisels, clamps from that big box store. I thought I was all set; I mean, how hard could it be?
Well, let me tell you, I was excited and a bit overwhelmed at the same time. I launched right into it, measuring and cutting like I had done it a hundred times before, but somewhere along the way, I miscalculated one of my angles. Oh, it was a classic. One minute, I was whistling a tune, the next I was staring at what could only politely be called a “abstract representation of a coffee table.”
I almost threw in the towel right then and there. I thought it was useless, a waste of fine walnut. My wife, bless her heart, found me sulking in the garage. I may have let slip that I was ready to give up. She just chuckled and shook her head like only she can do. “You can’t let wood win, hon. You’re the one with the saw.” I had to laugh; she was right.
Finding My Groove
So, I picked up the pieces—literally—and started over. I’m not gonna lie; the second try was still a bit bumpy. I tuned into Michael Dunbar’s advice on taking a measured approach. I refined my techniques, tried different joinery, and for the first time, I used a dowel joint. Now, let me tell you, pounding those dowels into place felt oddly satisfying. Like the sweet pop of completion. When it actually fit together, I couldn’t help but stand there grinning like a fool, thinking how far I’d come from that rainy afternoon of despair.
The smell of the wood was intoxicating, a mix of sawdust and rich walnut aroma in the air—it made me feel grounded, like I was exactly where I was meant to be. That first table? Well, it’s still proudly displayed in our living room, a bit wobbly maybe, but with charm. You know how people say, “It adds character”? I think that character is just the blooper reel of my mistakes adorning my living room.
The Great Finish Fiasco
Then there was the grand adventure of finishing. I’ll never forget the day I thought I’d get fancy with some oil-based finish. Sounds sophisticated, doesn’t it? The only problem was I underestimated how unforgiving that stuff can be. I spilled a bit—okay, let’s be honest, a lot—on the floor. And you know, that oil had a way of creeping through the cracks of the floorboards like an unwelcome guest.
As I scrambled with rags, trying to soak it up, I could almost hear my past self laughing: “Oh, so you think you’re a pro now?” that little voice inside me taunted. It was maddening and hilarious all at once. But after a long, sticky two hours, I managed to get the floor clean, swearing I’d stick to water-based finishes from then on.
The final application of the finish, however, was magical. You know that moment when everything comes together? The wood shimmered like it was alive, glowing with every little detail, every knot telling a story of its own. I stood back, took a deep breath, and smiled wide enough to stretch my cheeks.
The Warm Takeaway
So, if you’re thinking about diving into woodworking like I did, just go for it. Don’t let the fear of mistakes hold you back. Every ding and scratch adds to the character of what you’re making, just like the experiences that make up each of us. You’ll stumble, trip, and maybe even laugh at the ridiculousness of it all—trust me, it’s half the fun.
Michael Dunbar once said that woodworking is more than just producing a piece; it’s about the journey and learning you take along the way. And you know what? He was spot on. So go on, grab that piece of wood, and remember: if you mess up, it means you’re just one step closer to finding your own groove.
