"I wish I was a slave to an age old trade. Lord have mercy on my rough and rowdy ways." - Down in the Valley, The Head and The Heart
If I were to be a slave to an age-old trade, I think I've found it.
One fate-filled weekend at the end of summer, I headed north to N&Os for a last trip before they turned into snowbirds. While there we went on a thrifting excursion and came home with a couple finds: a cutting board and a spice rack.
Thus begins my venture into woodworking. My uncle has a fully set up woodshop that I began to refurbish my spice rack with O cut the cutting board into tow and polished them off. While in there I thought, I really need to know how to do this. Having another skill set that did't involve sitting at desk really seemed appealing to me. See, I almost look legit.
That Monday I returned to work and signed up for a quarter long woodworking class at the local community college. A ten week course that was going to at least draw me away from my desk job for a few hours every Monday night.
I must say it was particularly difficult to pull myself away from my desk at 5:00 every Monday for 10 weeks during our busiest time of the year but it was totally worth it when I got there. I was engaged, I was interested, I wasn't thinking about work.
Woodworking is a fascinating skill, one in which I still want to continue to develop. There is something very mechanical and precise about it but also very creative. It also allows one to focus and be present in time and in body because 10 fingers are nice to have and if you're not present you may find yourself with fewer fingers, among other potential consequences.
All is that to say I had a super time learning to create, build, measure and assemble my project.
Ta Da! I present to you a very tall entry way table:
I'm kind of totally proud of it. It only wobbles a little but will serve that purpose of being the first piece of furniture to greet me and will eventually be the resting place of keys and mails. Once I learn how to weave a basket for those things...