A Love Affair with Wood: My Woodworking Journey in Burnaby
Grab a cup of coffee and pull up a chair. I’ve got a story for you—one that meanders through the world of woodworking, sprinkled with trials, errors, and a few good laughs along the way.
So, here’s the thing. I live in this cozy little town of Burnaby, and for the longest time, I just admired woodworking from afar. You know, scrolling through Instagram, watching all those slick videos of folks crafting furniture that looked straight out of a fancy magazine. Beautiful tables and elegant shelves, all made with just a piece of wood and some tools. I thought, “I want that.” But deep down, I had zero experience.
The First Cut
One rainy afternoon, boredom set in. My garage had this old, dusty table saw—probably inherited from my dad, who was more of a hobbyist than a true craftsman. The smell of sawdust mingled with the scent of wet earth wafting through the cracks in the garage door. I figured, why not? I’ve got an idea! I decided to make a simple bookshelf.
Now, if you’ve ever taken a swing at a project without any real plan, bless your heart. I grabbed some pine lumber from the local Home Depot. Pine is nothing fancy, but it smells beautiful when you cut it. I got a new blade for the saw, which I was kind of proud of, but looking back, I should’ve probably watched a few more YouTube videos first.
Here I was, ready to get going, but let me tell you, I had no clue how to measure. I just eyeballed it—a classic rookie mistake. I cut one board too short, and by “too short,” I mean it looked like a bookshelf for dolls. I laughed at the absurdity of it, shaking my head at what I had created. My wife peeked in, eyebrows raised, and said, “What exactly are you planning to do with that?”
The Patience of Crafting
To make matters worse, I decided to get fancy. I wanted rounded edges. So, I drew some curves, thinking it would give it this rustic charm. I thought I was building a beautiful piece of art when, in reality, it was more like a science project gone wrong. The jigsaw, bless it, was a little too aggressive for my shaky hands. When I finally realized I was just ruining everything, I almost gave up.
But something stopped me. Maybe it was the thought of not having anything to show for a whole afternoon, or perhaps the intriguing smell of fresh-cut wood still lingering in the air. So, in a fit of stubbornness, I sanded down the mess like a madman. Hours went by, and after what felt like an eternity, I had something I could at least call a project, even if it was a rather wobbly one.
Small Victories
Finally, the moment of truth arrived: assembly time. I had watched videos about dowels and wood glue, and I thought, “How hard can it be?” Ha! I inevitably glued my fingers together at one point—yes, that happened. But you know what? Once the glue dried, and I stood back to look at my "masterpiece," I couldn’t help but smile. It was still wobbly, but that didn’t matter. It was mine, from start to finish.
A few days later, I even painted it—a deep walnut color that instantly warmed up the room. I remember feeling pretty proud when I placed a couple of books on it. Sure, it wasn’t going to win any woodworking awards, but for me, that was a small victory worth celebrating. I had poured my sweat, frustration, and—let’s be honest—a fair amount of amateur mistakes into that thing.
Lessons Learned
And oh, the lessons I learned! For instance, if you’re using wood glue, don’t be overly generous. A little goes a long way; trust me on that one. And those cheap clamps? They’ll let you down when you need them most—always go for the good ones, even if your wallet protests a little.
Looking back, I’ve worked on more projects since then, each one teaching me something new or surprising me in some way. My second attempt was a coffee table. The moment I pulled that one off was pure joy—a coffee table that could actually hold coffee cups without collapsing!
Final Thoughts
If you’re considering diving into woodworking here in Burnaby or wherever you might be, I say just go for it. Don’t worry about having the perfect tools or even the perfect skills. Grab some wood, take a deep breath, and let yourself make mistakes. Because honestly, that’s where the magic happens. One minute you’re cutting, gluing, and sawing, and the next, you find yourself laughing at your own missteps and reveling in the joy of creating something entirely unique.
There’s something soulful about it, a connection to the wood, the tools, and the journey. Don’t overthink it; just embrace the mess, and you might find you create more than just furniture; you might build a little piece of yourself in the process.
