…… or how a crackpot scheme of workbench building, bandsaw repairs, tool swaps and storage juggling is keeping my brain occupied. I’m not really sure where I’m going with this thread, but if someone finds it helpful then that’s something. If nothing else it could be a lesson in what not to do.
My workshop, like many here I expect, evolved in ways that I never expected when I first started. When I took on more metalwork and bought a lathe, it got shoe-horned into a suitable gap. Likewise my wood stocks got left wherever there was space. I found I was racking up the miles just walking from one end of the shed to the other because stuff was all over the place. The other result of my wood and metalworking worlds being intimately intertwined was that everything got covered by sawdust, oil and swarf in equal measure.
Ultimately it was a situation that was less than ideal, but not so terrible that I couldn’t tolerate it. Naturally in my idle moments I fantasised about what I would do differently if I started again. However the thought of reorganising the current layout was too big to contemplate. A chronic lack of space (surely the lament of every home woodworker!) would mean playing a protracted game of musical chairs; a workshop-themed Tower of Hanoi puzzle made real. It could wait until another day……
Last year I found myself taking less and less interest in the shed. My Dad was ill and it was clouding both my enjoyment of the shed and my practical judgement. I was going in the workshop only because I felt I had to, not because I wanted to. The culmination for me was when I was machining a simple component (metalwork, sorry) and completely fluffed it. My brain was still fogged thinking about the visit I paid to my Dad the previous day. As it turned out, that visit was the last time I saw him. He died the next day.
After that I went into a bit of a funk. I lost all interest. Perversely the only thing that got me into the workshop was making an oak cross to mark Dad’s grave. The months rolled past until earlier this year I finally felt like I had to do something, anything. With a lack of inspiration, the only thing I could think of was to put my old dreams into motion and commence Operation Musical Chairs……
My workshop, like many here I expect, evolved in ways that I never expected when I first started. When I took on more metalwork and bought a lathe, it got shoe-horned into a suitable gap. Likewise my wood stocks got left wherever there was space. I found I was racking up the miles just walking from one end of the shed to the other because stuff was all over the place. The other result of my wood and metalworking worlds being intimately intertwined was that everything got covered by sawdust, oil and swarf in equal measure.
Ultimately it was a situation that was less than ideal, but not so terrible that I couldn’t tolerate it. Naturally in my idle moments I fantasised about what I would do differently if I started again. However the thought of reorganising the current layout was too big to contemplate. A chronic lack of space (surely the lament of every home woodworker!) would mean playing a protracted game of musical chairs; a workshop-themed Tower of Hanoi puzzle made real. It could wait until another day……
Last year I found myself taking less and less interest in the shed. My Dad was ill and it was clouding both my enjoyment of the shed and my practical judgement. I was going in the workshop only because I felt I had to, not because I wanted to. The culmination for me was when I was machining a simple component (metalwork, sorry) and completely fluffed it. My brain was still fogged thinking about the visit I paid to my Dad the previous day. As it turned out, that visit was the last time I saw him. He died the next day.
After that I went into a bit of a funk. I lost all interest. Perversely the only thing that got me into the workshop was making an oak cross to mark Dad’s grave. The months rolled past until earlier this year I finally felt like I had to do something, anything. With a lack of inspiration, the only thing I could think of was to put my old dreams into motion and commence Operation Musical Chairs……
