The Joys and Trials of Woodworking: My Journey to Woodworker of the Year
You ever sit down with a cup of coffee, maybe on a Sunday morning after a long week, and start reminiscing about all the stuff you’ve done? Kind of like, “Hey, look where I’ve come from.” That’s me, right now, telling you about my journey in woodworking. So yeah, it’s not just about making stuff; it’s about making mistakes, learning, and maybe feeling a little proud of where I’ve landed.
Now, let me take you back a few years. Picture this: I’m standing in my garage, which, if we’re being honest, is more of a woodshop-slash-storage unit. You know the type—half-finished projects cluttering up an old table saw, boxes stacked precariously in one corner. Smells like sawdust mixed with a hint of motor oil from that old lawnmower I’ve been meaning to fix. And there I was, with dreams bigger than my budget, trying to work miracles with scrap wood and a mismatched collection of tools from yard sales.
The Great Cedar Debacle
So, I decided to make a cedar chest for my wife. I mean, who wouldn’t want a handmade storage piece for all those blankets we never use, right? I bought this beautiful, aromatic western red cedar—smells like a walk through the woods on a summer day. I could just envision the finished project shimmering in our living room.
But boy, was I in for a learning curve. I thought I could crank this out in a weekend. Reality check! It was late Friday evening, and I was fired up, cutting the cedar boards with my trusty Ryobi circular saw. I had this plan, you know? Each piece would just fall into place. But somewhere around 2 a.m., after I had glued and clamped the frame, I realized I didn’t double check my measurements. The damn thing was too big to fit through the garage door.
I almost gave up that night. Like, what was I thinking? Who needs a cedar chest anyway? But then I could hear my wife’s gentle encouragement in the back of my mind, like a faint whisper: “You can do this.” So I took a deep breath, made my peace with the oversized frame, and decided to chop it down in the morning.
The Sound of Victory
Saturday morning rolled around, and I was a bit grumpier than usual. As I approached the saw again, I could hear the whirring sound, almost like the machine was taunting me. The moment my fingers hit that trigger, I just knew it was going to work. Cutting it down, I watched the cedar bits fly off like confetti by the wayside. It was oddly satisfying.
The clamps were another story. Oh boy, if you ever thought you could skimp on clamps, listen to me: don’t. I was using two different kinds that were about a quarter inch off from each other. This led to the most crooked angles I’ve ever seen. It looked like something out of a funhouse mirror. What made it worse was my neighbor, who’s an actual carpenter, stopped by to check on my progress. I saw him holding back laughter, trying to be polite.
“Looks unique!” he said, and I knew right then—it was a wreck. But I just laughed it off, thinking, “Well, a year from now, I might as well win an award for ‘most original.’”
The Turning Point
Fast forward a handful of weekends, and I took my time to rectify my mistakes. I went back to the drawing board—quite literally. Every mistake became a lesson, whether it was not measuring twice, or dealing with the temperamental glue I was using. I ended up going for Titebond III for its waterproof properties. By the end, I was feeling pretty proud of myself.
Finally, I put on a finish that just made the grain pop, and let me tell ya, that glossy sheen was like the cherry on top. When my wife saw it, her eyes lit up, and then I knew all those late nights were worth it.
It was a simple chest, but it had history. And then one day, I got wind of a local woodworking competition looking for a ‘Woodworker of the Year.’ It didn’t even dawn on me to enter, but my neighbor nudged me into it. I threw in a photo of that cedar chest, half-expecting to hear crickets.
A Surprise Twist
Imagine my surprise when I got a call saying I’d won! I almost dropped my coffee mug. It’s like winning the lottery, but in the world of wood. Honestly, I was shocked. I thought they must’ve mistaken me for someone else. But as I stood up in front of a crowd, sharing my stories of colossal flops with that chest, I realized that it resonated with so many people. They were nodding along, like, “Yeah, I’ve been there.”
That’s the funny part about woodworking. It’s not just about building—it’s about connection. It’s about sharing those little mistakes, laughing about the issues and failures, and learning from them together. We all have our "cedar chests" we’re figuring to build, both in our workshops and in life.
The Takeaway
So here I am, sipping my coffee again, thinking back on everything. If you’re considering dipping your toes into woodworking, or if you’ve been mired in the mess of an unfinished project, just go for it. Embrace those mistakes! They’re part of the journey, and you’ll land somewhere you never expected. And remember, perfection isn’t the goal; it’s about how much heart you put into what you create. So go build something. And if it doesn’t go as planned? Just laugh it off and keep going. Trust me; you’ll be glad you did.
