Over The Workbench

I don’t like buying ready-to-assemble furniture, but I have to admit I was recently impressed by some.

The furniture polish people have a fine product as long as they tout it as polish. It’s when they hype benefits to the wood that they stray into PR-speak nonsense.

I hated to do it, but I just ordered some ready-to-assemble furniture. Do I feel guilty? Nope, because it’s saving me valuable time.

I’ve long maintained that stain is a pain. I now realize that kind of thinking was, well, inane.

Not everything made in the woodshop has to be related to work. In fact, sometimes the whole point of making something is to have fun.

Imagining a perfect woodworking world only takes a bit of imagination.

Our governor has allowed certain construction jobs to resume. From the few examples I can see, it’s going well.

I’ve worked with some machines for decades, and while I’ve grown confident in their use, I’ve never grown comfortable with some of them.

Isolation tends to make folks a bit antsy. I’d say that woodworkers are no different. At least, not this one.

It took cutting my wife’s hair to get a whole new appreciation for the tools of other people’s professions.

I’ve been making the most of self-isolation, and so far, so good.

Planning shop layout doesn’t always work. But when it does, it’s awesome.

Even the simplest of tool upgrades can make a difference.

I have a whole shop full of new tools. Or, at least it seems like it.

Sometimes, old neglected tools don’t work so well when you dig them out. Sometimes they work fine… but you should still get rid of them.

You just never know when you might need rarely used tools. Of course, you still have to keep them in working order…

At some point in every project I make, I include something personal that, most likely, no one will ever see.

There’s an old saying about doing as I say, not as I do. Good advice.

Of all the things woodworkers buy, use and accumulate in the woodshop, drill bits have to be at the top of the list for sheer volume.

Contractors, woodworkers or anyone else who installs furniture or cabinets try to contain their mess, but there’s something they almost always miss.

“You can never have enough clamps” may be a cliché, but it’s true. You can say the same thing about light.

Sadness, remembrance, appreciation, connection – just some of the things you feel when a gift project comes back into your life.

A recent experience with contractors taught me something about the importance of working as a team.

Ever have a one-off project unexpectedly become a series? It’s usually a surprise and, for me, a pleasant one.