Box in a Box

A brief trip to New York has a few noteworthy effects. It reminds me that, given my work and travel responsibilities, I have no time for a hobby, and I certainly have no time to learn a craft. But, I am undeterred!

It also reminds me of my first true carpentry project, this half-assed bed I built for our funny little apartment on 2nd Avenue. We bought 2x4s and sheets of 1/2-inch plywood at Lumber Century, the odd hardware store at the corner of 97th and 2nd Ave, and carried them three blocks by hand, which was far more exhausting than expected. (Carrying all six pieces of our living-room sectional was far easier.) I believe we paid about $200 for essentially one sheet of plywood, ripped in half, and two 2x4s cut into four boards - a small price to pay for a thrilling if fleeting sense of accomplishment! My co-designer was a civil engineer whose experience with materials did not translate into expertise with furniture.

In the picture below, this bed was brand-new. Two simple platforms that could be easily moved in and out of an apartment. You can't see the mattress-snagging screwheads sticking out here and there, but I had screwed the whole thing together without guideholes (or measurements!). I never finished the project as intended by installing a cross-brace. Consequently, within weeks the whole thing was a sloppy, saggy mess.

But, we slept on it for four years. If the M15 stop outside our window wasn't going to keep us awake, neither was a shoddy bed! This past Christmas, we gave ourselves a proper bed - made of aluminum.

Not Afraid of Fear Itself

There is a certain comfort in having one's fear realized. Such an experience confirms that your anxiety was rational, not paranoid, and it can also breach a defense that would be tiring to maintain. Last night I really revealed my inexperience and uncertainty, but at the same time freed myself to take up a learner's role without pretense or reservations.

Since I first considered taking carpentry class, I knew I would struggle with measuring and math. Of course, I do these things every day! But, at home, there is no embarrassment in measuring, remeasuring, re-remeasuring, and drawing a dozen diagonal lines on a 2x4 to gradually discern a right angle. Additionally, one of my worst math skills is subtracting with fractions - Good God, let there be metrics! - which was revealed to be a core competency required for last night's project, and for the whole practice of carpentry in North America.

In a week, this little board will feature a box joint, blind mortise, through mortise, hinge recess, dado joint and rabbet!

Dropped in the Shop

At the end of our first lecture, after two or three long, awkward breaks in the long, mostly awkward presentation on the otherwise scintillating topic of lumber, our instructor informed us that we'd spend the remainder of the allotted time cleaning the workshop in preparation for the semester ahead.

He framed this with a tone familiar to summer campers and army recruits - the cleaning of the workshop being offered as a combination of orientation and hazing, at the end of which we would have not only a clean place to enjoy but a "sense of ownership" over its contents and condition.

Even if we'd had not hours but days to "clean" this workshop, we would hardly have made a dent in the mess. Piles of nails lay about in piles of sawdust. A tool cabinet's doors swung open giving glimpses of a heaping melange of squares, chisels, mallets, and even more nails. Boxes of nails tumbled off shelves, spilling yet more nails on table tops, stacks of broken rods and boards, and countless half-used bottles of wood glue. I was happy to have brought my work gloves for picking up fist-fulls of nails.