The Unforeseen Joys of Glen Briggs Woodworks
So, you know how sometimes you just get this itch to create? Like, it’s almost a physical thing. I was sitting on my porch one afternoon, steaming cup of coffee in hand, watching my neighbor carefully hone a piece of cedar into this beautiful cutting board. I swear, the man looked like he was training for the Olympics or something, and I thought, "Hey, I want to do that!"
I’ve dabbled in woodturning and some basic stuff here and there, but starting a full-fledged project? That scared me a little. Nevertheless, off I went to my local lumber store. Oh man, the smell of that place is to die for—freshly cut wood, sort of sweet yet earthy. I should have brought a chair and just sat there inhaling those scents all day. But anyhow, I meandered through the aisles, occasionally picking up pieces of oak and pine, and before long, I found myself drawn to some gorgeous walnut. Dark, rich, and swirling with beautiful patterns. I thought, “If I’m going to do this, I might as well get the good stuff.”
Well, that turned out to be a bit of a double-edged sword.
The First Cut
When I got everything home, I was filled with this weird mix of excitement and dread. I had grand visions of making a side table for my living room. Stunning, right? I could already imagine the family gathering around it, flipping through old photo albums. I pulled all my tools out: my circular saw, trusty Dewalt drill, and a sweet little jigsaw I’d bought on sale.
Now, here’s where it took an unfortunate turn. I decided to dive right in and make the first cut without really measuring things out properly. Honestly, who doesn’t love a little improvisation, right? But as I cut into the walnut, the blade snagged, and the whole piece splintered like a bad relationship. I felt my heart drop; what had I done? My precious walnut, ruined!
Almost Gave Up
I nearly threw in the towel right then and there. I mean, it was a gorgeous piece of wood! I sank into my chair at the back of my garage, half-heartedly sipping my coffee while staring into the misty distance. Why on Earth was I thinking I could do something that gorgeous when here I was—highlighting my profound ineptitude? But as I sat there sulking, I realized this wasn’t just about making a table. It was about the journey, the process.
So, I decided to salvage what I could. I took that mangled piece and adapted; I trimmed it down and ended up making a small side shelf instead, something I could actually manage. Sometimes life throws you curveballs, and you gotta switch up your game plan a bit.
The Sweet Smell of Success (And Sawdust)
Let me tell you, the moment I finally glued that shelf together was pure magic. I remember the sound of the clamps tightening, the smell of wood glue mixing with that lovely walnut scent filling the shed. It made my heart swell a little bit. But, oh, I learned my lesson about clamps. I think I’ve got about five or six clamps now from various purchases. Hey, they’re like an investment, right?
As I sanded down the edges with my random orbital sander, the vibrations felt like a gentle bass thrum. I swear it was almost therapeutic. There’s something about the sound of a tool working; it’s like music to this woodworker’s ears. Who knew that smoothing wood could feel so satisfying? I found myself lost in the moment, forgetting all my previous frustrations.
And then came the finish. I opted for a simple Danish oil to highlight the walnut’s natural grain. The moment the oil soaked in, the wood practically glowed, and I couldn’t help but chuckle—like, wow, I actually did this. I was amazed it didn’t catch fire or something!
Lessons Learned
So, what’s the takeaway from all this? It’s simple: embrace the mess-ups. You see, I know painting that vision in my head onto the actual project felt like trying to capture lightning in a bottle, but it brought out this inner childlike spirit that I forgot existed. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve laughed out loud when I’ve stumbled upon something new or messed something up but found a workaround.
Every mark made, every miscalculated cut was a lesson that stuck with me. And you know what? I’ve lined a little corner of my garage with those blunders—pieces I’ll never use but that remind me how far I’ve come. A sort of gallery of "if-I-could-do-it-again" moments.
So, if you’ve got even the slightest itch to pick up a saw and some wood, just go for it! Trust me, even if things go sideways—and they probably will—you’ll end up with stories to share over a cup of coffee. And let’s be real, isn’t that worth it?
