Time machine

It doesn't happen often, but I actually foresee being able to spend some real time in the shop. I am a happy guy.

Been a lot of stuff happening in the last several months. Some family issues, a lot of running around and traveling, yard work and home repair, and the happy conundrum of having too many writing assignments all at once with overlapping due dates. Things are settling down now – my wife is back teaching with the school year kicking in, late-summer lawn care has decreased with the dry weather, several deadlines have been met and manuscripts delivered.

I haven't mentioned my book of Civil War woodworking projects lately, mainly because I haven't had much time to work on it with all the other time demands. But even though it's a writing assignment (meaning it really is work), it's one I've been wanting to spend time on because it involves so much play time in the shop. Sure, I still have to write it up, meaning there will be lots of work time spent sitting on my rear end in front of the computer, but the real fun is working in the shop to create all the projects that will be included in the book.

Most of the projects are either done or in some stage of development. One of them – a folding camp-table project I'm copying from a 145 year-old photograph – is half-finished and has been upended on my table saw with legs in the air like silent sentinels for several weeks now. In truth, the projects have been gathering dust; and by that I mean real dust, not sawdust. Can't have that, no sir.

I'm looking forward to this shop time with eager anticipation. If you visit my house during the next month, please take note of the little magnetic sign I slap on the door when working: "I'm in my garage workshop. Can't hear doorbell."

The truth is that I really can hear the doorbell. I'm just giving fair warning that I plan to ignore it.

Till next time,

A.J.