A forbidden purchase

I hate to pay for something I can do myself, but sometimes I do. I draw the line at paying for woodworking, though. Uh, well, until now.

Woodworkers, in general, are skilled folks both in and out of the shop. We can create, build or repair just about anything in our homes. I make some exceptions: I won’t touch electricity, even though I’m knowledgeable about it. Likewise, for serious plumbing work I’ll call someone else.

But woodworking? No way. If I need it, want it or get an assignment to write about it, I make it myself. If my wife sees something at a high-end craft show, I know I can make it better – without paying for it. It’s a personal promise I made myself years ago, and I’ve always kept it.

Till the other day.

For a specific series of photographs for a magazine assignment I’m working on, I absolutely must have a butcher-block style end-grain cutting board. The cutting board isn’t the actual subject, but the end-grain surface must appear in the photos. Although I’ve made them in the past, I don’t have one right now. This particular assignment has a very short turnaround and I just don’t have the time to make one. Heck, the glueups alone would take a couple days that I just don’t have.

I thought about calling around to see if someone I know has one, or maybe hitting local shops. But again, that takes time and if I come up empty I’ve lost even more time to arrive at a solution.

So I went on Amazon, found an end-grain cutting board, and bought it. With my Amazon Prime membership, I’ll have it in a day. When it gets here I’ll have to strip it down to raw wood for the photos, but hey, it was my only option. Still, I’m in shock and denial over this. I whined all through dinner last night, but I’m coming to terms with what I’ve done.

Besides, it could’ve been worse. I could have ended up getting it at Walmart.

A.J.