Friday, October 20, 2006
Woodworkin' Ain't for Lumberjacks
Howdy, Jake here. You might remember I talked about trying wood working. With this retirement gig, I've got all kinds of free time to fill. And my darling wife insists I get out of her house before I muss it up.How does one muss up a house, I wonder! All I was doing was sitting in my recliner, kicked back with the paper spread around me. Anyway ...
I hopped in my pick-up and headed to the local lumber yard. Picked up some right nice cherry. Not cheap wood for my honey. No siree. Instead, I get this strong cherry and have visions of a right nice hutch floating in my mind's eye. About six feet tall, four feet wide with fancy little doors to cover the bottom two shelves. The top open for her to display her fancy plates.
I pull up to the garage and hustle round to the back. I heft a few pieces on to my shoulder. The cherry feels mighty light after the huge hunks of tree I carted around at the lumber yard. The problem came when I tried to walk through the door. I totally miscalculated just how long those planks were. Next thing I know I'm spinning around like a kid who's just stepped off the whirly rides at the fair. Then I'm flat on my back, planks dancing on their ends before they slice through the air and land on me.
As soon as I got my air back, I started hollering like a stuck pig. Disgusted with myself, I pushed them planks to the side and stood just as my sweetie came out to see what all the ruckus was about.
"Nothin'. Just making your hutch."
All this before I got into my workshop and started working with the tools I'd borrowed from folks around the lake. Those dainty tools were too smile for my hands. By the time I was done hacking up the wood, that fancy china hutch had shrunk to a couch-side table.
It looks mighty nice if you like a square on stubby legs.
-- Jake
Hey, Jake, just in case you try--"dust" means get rid of the stuff, not throw it around.
'Sides, it was the thought!!
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