Woodworking

Cal, my brother, built this lamp a few years ago.

He and I are both into woodworking. More specifically, we build furniture. We enjoy discussing our projects and helping each other with our designs. We both even have similar taste in furniture.

The only difference between us regarding that hobby is that everybody encourages him to build more while disregarding me as a delusional chick who doesn't know the first thing about woodworking.

A couple years ago, I wanted to build a large video game entertainment center for Nate's birthday but I didn't have the right tools. Hell, I didn't have anything at all.

So when I had the design and measurements finalized, I bought all the wood, wood filler, and wood stain before going to my grandparents' house with Cal in tow. I asked my grandpa if I could use the woodworking equipment in his garage.

He said yes, but grabbed my blueprint and took control and made Cal his assistant. Whenever I tried to regain control, he told me to go and help my grandmother in the kitchen.

I had a very, very specific design in mind, so whenever I caught my grandpa doing something wrong, I tried to correct him only to have my words fall on deaf ears. It wasn't until my brother repeated what I said that my grandpa listened and said, "Oh, yeah, you're right!"

I cannot begin to describe the anger I felt. It was my project. The result wasn't all that bad, but I didn't feel attached to it at all.

I was so upset that the next time I had a project, I didn't go to my grandparents'. Instead, I bought a hand saw, a small planer, some sandpaper, and gorilla glue and went right to work at Nate's warehouse.

I struggled with the measly "tools", and while the outcome was decent, I was not happy with it at all. That experience made me realize how important it is to have the right, and I mean right, tools.

It wasn't until then that I decided to not make anything until I have my own woodshop in my own house. I have a couple designs in mind already -- one for a bed, one for a kitchen table. I can't wait.

The more I think about it, the more I realize that the only person who ever took my woodworking hobby seriously was Mr. Davit, my woodshop teacher in high school.

The entire class made a cabinet based on a generic design, but I had something else in mind. I wanted to make a corner cabinet with glass doors. Mr. Davit sat down and went over my design with me. He worked with me throughout the entire semester, taking the time to explain every step and why it was very critical. When I was finally done with the corner cabinet, he thought it was gorgeous and even took a picture of it, something he didn't do with anyone else in my class. He was a great teacher and one of the few teachers I remember from high school.