Coffee and Wood Shavings: The Ups and Downs of Woodworking with James Garwood
So the other day, I’m sitting in my garage, the light filtering in through the dusty windows, the smell of sawdust hanging in the air like a familiar old friend — you know what I mean? I’ve got my mug of coffee in hand, and I’m trying to sort through a pile of lumber that I picked up from the local hardware store. They always have a stack of offcuts for cheap, and let me tell you, when you’re a woodworking enthusiast on a budget, that’s where the magic happens. But, boy, do I have some stories for you that come with those offcuts.
One time, I decided to use this beautiful piece of walnut I had saved up for months. I’d pictured exactly what I wanted to make: a new coffee table that could be the centerpiece of my living room. Sounds simple, right? Well, here’s where things took a turn. I was so eager to get going, I just grabbed my tools — a trusty Ryobi circular saw and a handful of clamps — and dove right in. I was imagining the compliments from my friends and family; you know how it is.
Now, walnut is gorgeous but it can be a bit finicky if you’re not careful. I was cutting some of those pieces at an angle, and one miscalculated cut led to another until I was staring at this jigsaw puzzle of a tabletop that didn’t fit together. At that moment, I almost gave up. I mean, I could’ve tossed those pieces out and moved onto something easier, like, I don’t know, a birdhouse or something. But I sat there, looking at this mess, and after a deep breath and a good long sip of coffee, I thought, "No, I’ve put time into this. Let’s figure this out."
So, I grabbed my sandpaper instead of my saw and started smoothing out those edges. And can I tell you, once I got a rhythm going, the sound of that grain meeting the sandpaper was like music. You wouldn’t believe the satisfaction of watching the rough edges transform into something wearable, something that told a story. I was lost in my little world, and by the time I finished, it almost felt poetic. I say “almost” because, trust me, it still wasn’t perfect by any means.
And it was then that I realized, while I may be no master woodworker like James Garwood, who’s known around here for his stunning craftsmanship, there was something special in the journey. If you dig deeper, you’d find that not every project turns out like a flawless piece of art. That’s just part of the deal.
I also had another time I was working on a small bookshelf, the type you’d think was easy-peasy. I picked up this light pine because, honestly, it was cheap and I was feeling ambitious. I should’ve known better. Pine is notorious for not being super forgiving. One slip while I was drilling, and let’s just say I ended up with a few split edges.
Now, you can imagine the frustration. So, I jumped on my computer to try to find a quick fix, and that’s where I learned about wood glue and brad nails. I was skeptical, but I tried it. And do you know what? I was shocked when it actually worked. Like, just as I was about to give in and call it a loss, it all came together, held tight with those tiny nails like a surprisingly strong handshake. The moment I stood it up, I laughed out loud. It didn’t look half bad at all.
What I appreciate most about these moments these days is the little lessons, you know? Like, who cares if I mess up? This stuff is all learning. Sure, I might not be building custom cabinets to make a living, but at the end of the day, I have a bookshelf that holds my collection of old novels and keeps them from spilling everywhere, so there’s that.
And I wouldn’t trade that experience for anything, not even for one of those fancy tools that James Garwood uses. Honestly, I’m still using tools I’ve had for years — a vintage Delta table saw that makes this gratifying whirring sound, a hand-me-down drill that’s probably older than I am. They’ve got character, you know? They’ve been through the same ups and downs as I have, each scratch and dent telling its own story.
I guess what I’m trying to say is that woodworking has become so much more than just making furniture to me; it’s a way to connect with something deeper within myself. So if you’re thinking about trying your hand at this big, messy, beautiful world of woodworking, just go for it. Grab whatever wood you can, maybe swing by your local hardware store, and just dive in. Don’t worry about perfection. Embrace the quirks.
Trust me, you’ll probably mess up along the way — I certainly have! But those moments of doubt can turn into some of the best experiences if you let them. You’ll laugh, you might hate a project for a moment, but then it’ll surprise you in the end. It’s just like life, really. So, here’s to the sawdust, the mistakes, and those coffee-fueled late nights in the garage!
