A Day in the Life at Johnstone’s Woodworks: Lessons Learned in Sawdust
You know, it feels like just yesterday when I stumbled upon that old planer at a yard sale. I thought, “Wow, that’s got character!” Little did I know how much character it would add to my life—because between you and me, woodworking has been a rollercoaster ride of surprises, laughter, and a few moments of pure panic.
So, there I was, after a long week at the office, staring at a pile of wood I’d managed to scrounge up: some rough cedar, a couple of pine boards, and even a stunning piece of walnut that I probably paid too much for, but hey—beautiful wood has a way of tricking your wallet. I had a grand vision of making a coffee table that would impress not just my wife but the neighbors, too. (And wouldn’t you know it, the neighbors are always walking by with their nosey eyes.)
The Setup
I set up in the garage, early on a Saturday morning. I brewed a pot of my favorite coffee—oh, the smell of fresh coffee mingling with the cedar shavings is something else. I could almost hear the wood whisper, “Let’s get started!” And trust me, that’s a smell you don’t forget. With the radio softly playing some old country tunes, I had a moment where I thought I really had it all together.
My first mistake? Being overzealous about measurements. Look, I know in theory that the phrase “measure twice, cut once” is golden, but there’s a level of confidence—maybe arrogance?—that kicks in when you think, “I’ll be fine.” Spoiler alert: I wasn’t fine.
Uh-Oh Moment
So, I measured this lovely piece of walnut for the tabletop and just knew I had it right. Took a deep breath, let the saw sing, and SNAP—out popped the tail end of the board. You’d think I’d just ruined my entire woodworking career. I was standing there, heart racing, staring at this gorgeous walnut piece split like a bad relationship.
In that moment, I almost called it quits, you know? I nearly quit. Thought about just throwing everything back in the garage and binge-watching TV until I forgot what I meant to do. But something, maybe the smell of that coffee still wafting through the air, kicked me out of my slump. So, I pulled out my trusty wood glue—Titebond III, something I swear by—and started piecing it back together. The smell of the glue was honestly comforting; you could almost say it’s the scent of redemption.
The Grind
Once I had it glued up and clamped—oh boy, those clamps! I’ve got a collection that looks like they’re auditioning for a role in a horror movie; they’re everywhere. But hey, they do a job, and I appreciated them at that moment. I waited for the glue to dry, hands on my hip, swaying like a proud parent.
Cut to the sanding phase. Ah, sanding… It’s like that long drive you don’t want to take, but you know you have to get there eventually. I had my palm sander revving up, and started smoothing the edges. The sound of that sander buzzing was oddly satisfying. But guess what? I got a little careless and tried to get a little too aggressive, thinking I’d get it done quicker. Yeah, I ended up leaving swirl marks like a bad haircut on the wood. Lots of “ah, come on!” moments.
I laughed when I finally got it all smoothed out. I mean, who knew a little elbow grease and some patience would actually yield something beautiful?
The Finish Line (Almost)
Now, the finishing—this part was nerve-wracking. I used a mixture of Danish oil and polyurethane, hoping it would give the walnut that rich, warm glow. A huge tip, my friends: always apply it in a ventilated area. Let me tell you, breathing those fumes indoors isn’t just a bad idea; it’s the worst. Picture me, on the verge of passing out, trying to keep a straight face while I fanned the air with a piece of scrap wood. Not my proudest moment, I’ll admit.
But it worked! The color deepened, and for a moment, I felt like a magician revealing a trick. I put it all together—legs, tabletop, everything—and stood back, hands on my hips. It was like admiring a child you’ve poured everything into, hoping they’ll turn out just right.
A Toast to Our Mistakes
I ended up with a solid coffee table, and not just one that I could sneakily sweep under the rug when guests came over. My wife loved it, and I got a little personal satisfaction watching our friends enjoy a nice cup of coffee around something I made. It’s almost like a little piece of me was in that table.
What did I learn? That mistakes are part of this whole woodworking journey, and man, do they happen. Each one is a lesson wrapped in a little piece of shame that lingers there until you transform it into something beautiful.
So look, if you’re sitting there, cup of coffee in hand, wondering whether to take the plunge into woodworking or any creative endeavor, just do it! It won’t be perfect. It might get messy, and you’ll probably want to give up a time or two, but trust me, you’ll find tiny victories in the mess. That, my friend, is the beauty of it all. Just let the wood, the glue, and maybe a bit of coffee guide you. Happy building!
