Three years ago, when many of my friends were adventuring abroad to new destinations, I embarked on an adventure in the city where I live: I signed up for a woodworking class.
When I was a child, I positioned a nail near the edge of a block of wood, hammered it in a short way, and called the result a sailboat. That was the extent of my woodworking experience until 2016. Dreaming of making unique frames for my marquetry projects, I registered for a class at the wood shop in the Senior Citizens Center.
I expected to be the only woman fumbling around in a room of more competent men; however, of the eight students registered, five were women in their forties and older.
Our project was to build a small set of shelves from our choice of two designs. Each step we took was so new and required such precision that we all needed a lot of guidance and double checking. Without a blink or a sigh, our teacher Leroy always helped me work through difficulties and around my mistakes, then calmly scanned the room to discover who needed him next.
My hands constantly took on firsts: the first time to divide a board with a table saw; to follow a curved line with a band saw; to soften a sharp edge with an oscillating sanding bit; to drill a hole and to cut a plug to fill it; to coax boards into and out of position with a mallet.
I learned new words as well as new meanings for old words. There were grooves called dados (DAY-doze) to cut, for example, and biscuits to slather with glue and insert into the edges of boards that had to be joined.
As with most adventures, surprises came up.
First I found out that a table saw can do more than cut a board into two pieces: it can also make carefully planned dados by grinding unwanted wood into sawdust. Later I was both surprised and amused when I discovered that the biscuit joiner (the device for cutting openings for biscuits) had created enough beautiful curls from my boards to coif a large Shirley Temple doll.
Nothing shocked me more than Leroy’s instructions to wet my raw boards with a damp cloth to raise the grain. Better to raise it now and sand the results, he had explained, than to remove more stain than necessary later on.
By the time I hung my small set of shelves, I had discovered a new world rich in sensory experiences. A trip to Kathmandu could hardly have seemed more surreal or amazed me more than working in the wood shop a few miles from my house.
Several months later I made the frame pictured at left with a lot of help from Leroy and friends skilled in woodworking. The precision required for the simplest steps awed me. It didn’t take long for me to appreciate the value of apprenticeships before machines made most everything.
After a couple more projects, I humbly retired from woodworking. But I’ve never regretted going on that fascinating journey at home.
“Rollin’ Along” (above) is a series of five 5″x 7″ pieces of marquetry. When experienced woodworkers look at marquetry and tell me they just couldn’t do that, I can’t help smiling and shaking my head. I believe they have been doing the impossible for years.
So many adventures await us if we’re willing to “try stuff”! Your souvenirs are beautiful reminders of a daring trip into the world of wood and power tools.
Thank you for your help getting the right shot of that souvenir, Ellen!
Enjoyed vicariously going along on the journey! It reminds me of the travel writer that decided to take a trip around his room. Sharon
Loved reading this Sally – and what a beautiful bi-product of your wonderful journey!
Thank you for telling me. That’s music to my ears. You know, a writer can never be sure that her readers won’t be bored!
Thank you for sharing your wonderful and challenging experience with woodworking. Your creations are stunning. The next time I see them I will have a much better understanding of the exquisite pieces you have created.
So nice to hear from you, Dona. We will have to arrange a second viewing soon!
Brava, Sally. Very nice work, indeed. You have steady hand and patient heart to do ‘Rolling Along.’ Thanks for sharing.
Thank you, Michael, for your appreciative comments. Nice to hear from you.
Your writing is never disappointing to me. However; this one (so far) is my fav! You inspire me with “if you’re going to do it…do it good”!! And that counts for your shelf too!!! I myself, love woodworking. Bless us with more stories!
Respectfully
An admirer
(Dorothy)
You love woodworking, Dorothy? We could make a great team! If only you were in Colorado!
I’m delighted that my story hit you just right!
I loved your post!
I loved hearing that!