Living-Deliberately.com

Like the orthodontist’s kid with great teeth, so I have I been with wood products. I grew up with a wood shop everywhere we lived and the craftsman running things for a dad. So I guess it’s only natural I’ve taken some big things for granted in that regard. Picture Frame? No problem! He’d whip one up in a few mintues. Box? Shelves? He’s probably got scraps to do just that. Bigger stuff like, oh say…whole kitchens? Well, he’d put me on “the list”, and sooner or later, there it’d be. He was my Geanie in the Woodshop.

While tackling my first building project, and what a big one it’s turned out to be, I’ve had to confront a few things. For instance, I wasted a good too-many years letting wood stuff be the “man thing” when I enjoy the smell of sawdust and wood glue on my hands. I’m a math-idiot but they now make tape measures for people just like me, with little fractions written right on them! I know cuz Dad bought me one ;-). I like the hands-on concreteness of solid material and how it makes sense of stupid theorems (sp LOL) that were baffling on paper. Another thing to confront: my fear of power tools.

Why in the world would I be afraid of power tools!?! I’ve been around them forever. Great big ones even. I think I have such a strong respect for their power that they’ve intimidated me. One, with the help of one tiny piece of wood, almost killed my dad 13 or so years ago. Or nearly took the use of his hand, which might have been the same thing.  They are loud, sharp, and horror film makers like to display what neat things they can do with….flesh, blood, bone….you get the idea.

This fear has gotten me out of many, many jobs on project day. My hubby has hung shelves I could have figured out myself. I’ve made a total mess out of plaster and drywall because they needed a screw rather than a nail. And I’ve not cut anything until this week. I’ve got the incredibly sore arms and neck muscels to remind me of how hard that really is!

And today was the biggie. I went to home depot and they wouldn’t cut my wood. They “only do straight cuts at the end of boards”, said they. Contractor-lady suggested the lumber store “because they make things”. Oh. Said lumber store actually has a wonderful store and wood shop. For just a few minutes I battled homesickness thickly as I walked amid the table saws and noticed their nifty ventilation systems and duct work keeping the sawdust under control. A very kind man with very crossed eyes took my order, painstakingly going over my measurements, and trying very much to talk me into better wood. And then I asked how much it would cost.

OUCH!!! (Twist and roll around on the floor in nauseating sickness). Wow. It’s not that his time isn’t worth it…..I don’t begrudge him that one second. But it sure adds into the project’s bottom line cost. I’ve never in my life paid to have wood cut. And I can tell you this honey-child…it will be the last time.

Cuz this Red Head is going to take her little “Living Deliberately” self  and learn how to use a power saw. It might be a little tiny cute one to start with and I might tremble and shake, but this is one fear I can’t afford to coddle. Maybe there’s another reason they call them “power” tools, besides how they get their energy!

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