A Little Slice of Heaven: My Foray into IRS Auction Woodworking Tools
You know, there’s something about the smell of freshly cut wood that makes my heart skip a beat. It’s like I’m walking through a forest, with that crisp, earthy aroma wrapping around me like a comforter on a cold night. There’s also that slight squeak of the saw cutting through soft pine or, sometimes, the thump as a piece of maple hits the workbench—that’s music to my ears.
Now, you might be wondering how I got into all this woodworking business in the first place. Well, it starts with that old shed in my backyard. You know the one—a bit of rust here and there, with peeling paint and a door that sticks if you don’t give it that little “shove.” I’ve always been the kind of guy who thinks he can fix things, maybe even make ‘em better, and one afternoon, I decided to give that shed a serious makeover.
The Great Tool Hunt
So, I’m rummaging through old boxes, pulling out tools my dad used to own. He had this ancient circular saw—could probably cut through a car if you really wanted it to. But, man, there were gaps in my collection. I wanted to build some furniture—simple stuff, like a coffee table and a couple of chairs. And that’s when a friend mentioned IRS auctions.
Now, let me tell you, my first thought was, “IRS? Like, the tax people?” He laughed and assured me it was legit—sometimes they auction off seized property, including woodworking tools! Well, color me interested.
Long story short, I found myself on a Sunday morning, coffee in hand, scrolling through all sorts of listings. You wouldn’t believe it! There were tables covered in tools like DeWalt and Ryobi, hand planes that looked untouched—seriously, I swear I could still smell the varnish from the factory. It was like stumbling upon a treasure chest.
Of course, I made mistakes. I remember bidding on a full set of chisels, thinking it’d be a steal. And it was—except, I hadn’t checked the shipping. Let’s just say, it ended up costing me nearly as much as new ones. Whoopsy!
When Things Got Hairy
After a couple more auctions and a reasonable collection of tools, I was ready to get to work. I remember rolling out the hefty table saw—oh man, the sound of it humming to life had me grinning like a kid with a new toy.
First project? A simple coffee table. It was going to be this beautiful blend of oak and cherry—a real showstopper, or so I thought. The pieces were laid out, like a puzzle, each cut measured, angles checked. But then—uh-oh. I hadn’t accounted for the thickness of the cherry. So, there I was, staring at a countertop that looked like a toddler got into the Lego box. I nearly tossed in the towel, muttering profanities when my wife poked her head in. She just gave me that knowing look, despite my frustration. “Just take a break, hon.”
So I did. I sulked a little, sipped my lukewarm coffee, and when I returned to the workshop, I noticed it was just wood. A living, breathing thing that I could shape. I made it work, of course; I sanded the pieces down, adjusted everything, and after a night of careful reassembly, I stepped back to admire it.
A Triumph of Sorts
That final moment was magic. All that sawdust stuck to my jeans, bits of wood splinters under my nails, and I was still grinning like an idiot. The smell of polyurethane finished it off perfectly. I couldn’t help but laugh when I finally stood it upright, heart thumping in my chest.
People say that woodworking teaches patience, but boy, does it test your sanity too. I’ve had splinters in places I didn’t know splinters could go, and don’t even get me started on the time I accidentally glued my fingers together. Honestly, I lost track of how many times I almost gave up on that table. I was ready to throw the whole thing into the fire pit out back more often than I care to admit.
But isn’t that the beauty of it all? Each hiccup turned into a lesson. I learned about wood types, grain patterns, and the sheer joy of seeing something I made from scratch. It made me appreciate that sweet aroma of pine and the comforting sound of a saw blade.
Looking Back
So here I am, a couple of years later, a garage that smells like sawdust, and a workshop full of tools I never thought I’d have. The IRS auctions? A godsend, let me tell you. They got me started, and from there, a whole new world opened up.
And if you’re sitting there, maybe thinking about taking the plunge into woodworking—just go for it! Don’t let the fear of messing up hold you back; every mistake comes with a lesson. If I’d known then what I know now, I would have jumped in headfirst without a second thought.
Sometimes I ponder these late nights in the shop, tools in hand, coffee by my side, and a world of possibilities nestled inside that wood. There’s something beautifully grounding about it. So get started, mess up, laugh, and maybe even create something you’ll be proud of. Well, here’s to sawdust and coffee—may they fill your days with satisfaction!
