Peter Brown's ShopTime

March 2008 Dear Diary, Today my wife asked me to build her something. A toy shelf out of wood. I haven't done anything like that since I was a kid, and back then it was impolite to say, "Wow? Did you make that? Kid...that looks like garbage." I'm not even sure where to start. I have a workbench, but I hadn't actually thought of using it for anything. I hope my tools don't get freaked out by actually having to cut things. "Work? What's up with that? I though we were just for show!" Dear Diary, The toy shelf turned out okay. The children don't know what it's for and keep sleeping on the shelf like a set of junior bunk beds. What if it falls apart? That would be embarrassing trip to the hospital. "So, Mr. Brown...not only did you maim your daughters with your poor woodworking skills, but as I can see from this chunk of wood protruding from your eldest child's arm...you also need to work on more uniform staining application." Ap...

There seems to be no shortages of people places or objects to bestow your esteem, regard, respect, approval or reverence. So how is it that I ended up here? Recently I find myself making sacrifices to a god that I didn't even know existed until a few moths back. This god is now the ruling force in my workshop, second to none with the power to change the outcome of even the smallest of event. That's right, the god of Oops. Somehow I have unknowingly allowed myself to be ensnared in the firm grip of this relativity low profile god. What many folks would dismiss as coincidence, I see as evidence to the ethereal hand of Oops. Oops is a very demanding god Oops demands regular sacrifices of nearly all of my projects. Sometimes, he only wants a small thing, like a striped screw head, or stray paint drip on an otherwise clean job. Other times my reverence is tested with something of a slightly larger scale. As I noted in an earlier post, Oops was apparently drowning in wistful mela...

There is something appealing about free. Free. Something for nothing. “You want it? It’s yours.” “What’s the cost?” “No cost. Nothing. It’s free. Just take it.” I should have known better. There is nothing quite as expensive as free. Two weekends ago I got a deal. A real honest to goodness bargain. As I was browsing through Craigslist looking for inexpensive power tools to feed my new addiction, I found this post: “Free Vintage Sears Lathe” Needless to say I mashed out a frantic email to aforementioned giver of free tools letting them know how much I wanted it. “I will come and pick it up TODAY. no questions asked.” Within three minutes of the ad appearing online, I had a phone call from the owner letting me know where to pick it up. For those not in “the know” a lathe has one purpose. To take a block of material, wood in this case, and spin it at near dangerous speeds. My lathe spins at four speed...

There is something appealing about free. Free. Something for nothing. "You want it? It's yours." "What's the cost?" "No cost. Nothing. It's free. Just take it." I should have known better. There is nothing quite as expensive as free. Two weekends ago I got a deal. A real honest to goodness bargain. As I was browsing through Craigslist looking for inexpensive power tools to feed my new addiction, I found this post: "Free Vintage Sears Lathe" Needless to say I mashed out a frantic email to aforementioned giver of free tools letting them know how much I wanted it. "I will come and pick it up TODAY. no questions asked." Within three minutes of the ad appearing online, I had a phone call from the owner letting me know where to pick it up. For those not in "the know" a lathe has one purpose. To take a block of material, wood in this case, and spin it at near dangerous speeds. My lathe spins at four speeds ranging from a...

There are few things as defeating as starting over. When you believe that you have completed a project, paper, blog or task to realized that something is not satisfactory. You sit there putting the finishing touches on it when it hits you like a ton of bricks. You begin to rationalize. It’s not that bad, I can fix it. No matter how hard you try, you know the truth of it cannot be escaped. Life is about to teach you a valuable lesson that you will shell out for in heaps of wasted time. Buckle up. So you just finished the most amazing wrapping job on Earth. Perfectly folded corners and the most delightful bow you’ve ever tied. I mean, honestly, when does curling ribbon ever curl that well? Only when curling ribbon knows what you don’t. It knows that you’ve been a total stooge and left the “HALF-OFF CLEARANCE” sticker smack dab in the center of Aunt Betsy’s gift. I recently found myself at the end of a woodworking project. It wasn’t anything ...

There are few things as defeating as starting over. When you believe that you have completed a project, paper, blog or task to realized that something is not satisfactory. You sit there putting the finishing touches on it when it hits you like a ton of bricks. You begin to rationalize. It's not that bad, I can fix it. No matter how hard you try, you know the truth of it cannot be escaped. Life is about to teach you a valuable lesson that you will shell out for in heaps of wasted time. Buckle up. So you just finished the most amazing wrapping job on Earth. Perfectly folded corners and the most delightful bow you've ever tied. I mean, honestly, when does curling ribbon ever curl that well? Only when curling ribbon knows what you don't. It knows that you've been a total stooge and left the "HALF-OFF CLEARANCE" sticker smack dab in the center of Aunt Betsy's gift. I recently found myself at the end of a woodworking project. It wasn't anything horribly invo...

It’s true. I’m a thief, a scoundrel, a scallywag. My victims are totally helpless, and I swoop in a take what I need. They cannot stop me. I’m not in the least bit repentant about it. In fact I’m proud of it. I say, “If your silly enough to pass on with nice stuff in your garage, it’s your own fault when your wife and son sell it to me for next to nothing!” My soul is absolutely filthy. I need help. I don’t remember the exact date, but sometime in September I found myself souring thorough Craigslist when I found a posting for a ’12” free standing band saw for $25′. It’s not important what a 12″ free standing band saw is, or what it does, just know this. That price was UNHEARD OF! So I did what I always do on Craigslist. I waited three days and then sent a email like, “Are you still trying to get rid of your old band saw?” This is a low tactic, but not too low for a jerk such as myself. $25 for a 12...