Over a creek and through a very small patch of woods
to Bob's house I went, this morning, with a rough, splintery board.
It has been providing stellar service, positioned across the side of the left bed, as a quasi-nightstand. However, I have always felt bad that I did not have access to a planer when I made it. Good WAS better than perfect. However. Bob is retired, and willing to share his planer.
When I got there, he had forgotten I was coming. I was glad I had a big vase of greenery and photogenic red berries in hand; I felt slightly less guilt about asking for help.
His shop is very nice. Some of the equipment sits on rolling carts like a 70's film projector from grade-school. He had to shift a few things around to bring the planer to the middle of the room. Then he started it up (did I remember to take ear plugs? I did not) and we ran it through several times on each side. My position in woodworking is almost always "the person standing on the other end, waiting to catch the boad when it comes through."
After we were done with the planer, he made a few more shifts of equipment and we ran it through the edger. (Did I remember to take a mask? I did not. ACHOOOOO!) Then he fussed with the corners a bit with some sandpaper. THEN he wanted me to come inside and look at his most recent project, a set of three very nifty little tables for his porch. They are a unique pattern that he made himself, and shaped more-or-less like a big Z. They were beautifully crafted and finished, so I was cheerfully and honestly able to admire them. Chit-chatted what felt like a reasonable amount of time with him and his wife, then headed for home.
Some more sanding, and a coat of oil. Did I take a chunk out of my thumb on the one little splintery bit that is left? Of course.
Holes in the board add character. Plus, the cord for the lamp can run down through that. Use what you've got, you know. It has a knothole and some wain edge in places, but . . it will do the job.
