So, the time has come to start working on the house again (although I have other tasks I want to do, including reinstalling this laptop with a shiny, fresh version of OS X). But first up, my mother is coming to visit in a few weeks, and our Library* is still full of boxes. Boxes, no shelves, and a distinct absence of double bed. The first step, therefore, in making the bed magically appear is to make the shelves.
Sadly, I don’t think I’ve any shots of what the wood looked like before. We picked up 7 lengths of rough cut Douglas Fir. I’m not sure what it was used for, but it contained a number of screw holes and nails, and is clearly reclaimed. Kathryn spotted the gorgeous stuff hiding at Bristol Wood Recycling, and despite the fact that we had no house to put it in, we lept on the chance and bought it there and then. A while ago we rented a thicknesser and for me at least, for the first time since school I was let loose with real tools. Granted it was a portable thicknesser and not a proper shop one, but there was a deep, deep joy in seeing the grain appear and the rough cut timber turn into beautiful douglas fir planks (here).
Anyway, today I finally went down and started cutting them to size. I have no idea yet whether I’ve done it right, that comes over the next few sessions of working on it. Tomorrow I need to go and get the back section. We’d hoped to get Douglas Fir veneered ply, but the price of veneered timber is somewhat higher than the price of bog standard ply, and given that it’s unlikely that we’ll be taking this to Canada, it’s foolish to spend that much money on it. Anyhow, cut to size and rough edges lightly sanded, I set to varnishing.
I really, really must go on a furniture making course, because there’s something deeply enjoyable about making furniture. I really wish I’d spent more time learning how to do it properly with my dad who could, and did, produce very beautifully finished, exacting work. He always said he was impressed by my ability to bodge, in so far as I needed a bookcase for Uni, and in a few hours I knocked one up from scraps of timber I found in a skip. No real plans, but the back of an envelope used for calculations. It worked, and application of various bodgery tricks and you couldn’t tell it was a bit off square. It worked for the three years I was at uni, and I had no compunction at the end about it going to be recycled.
Similarly, I built an L shaped bookcase for nothing from scrap chipboard (even the screws were, I think, ones from my dad). The most expensive bit was paint, and that was whatever was on clearance at B&Q. That had a bit more planning, but mostly I jigsawed the whole thing with some care, but not loads, and used brute force to put it together, and paint to fill in the cracks. It didn’t look fantastic, but it did it’s job, and I was quite proud of it.
My dad on the other hand? He took months to refurbish one (century old sash) window at my parent’s house, but they looked brand new when he’d finished. He’d gently cut out rotten timber, let in new sections, fill the slight imperfections and sand them. When he reinstalled them he’d adjust the balance, and the whole thing would work like a new window. I wish I’d paid more attention, because doing this, I’m aware that I’m working beyond my limitations.
I’ve cut the timber, and I’m varnishing it, but I’m terrified it’s not really that square – because I don’t have a suitable square to check with. The builders recommended getting a roofer’s one, which are massive 90 degree things. I might do that, at least for the bed. We’ll see when I’m getting the back piece tomorrow.
That I’ll have cut at the store, because trying to cut it in the garage is likely to end in disaster. The plan for the next few weeks, once the shelves and bed are done is to tidy the garage and sort the tools in preparation for the conversion of the minor. Something that fills me with excitement and dread. It’s another of those moments when I really want my dad here, because his skills and attention to detail would make the project something beautiful. With me? I’m just going to have to try and channel his skills and knowledge.
Anyhow. So over the next few days I’m hoping to put together the bookcase. I’m fighting the urge to throw it together rapidly, because whilst I know that would get the room in service, I’m going to see this bookcase lots over the next few months, and I want it to look at least averagely decent. Not bespoke shiny shiny (although that’d be nice), but reasonably neat.
* AKA the spare bedroom, also AKA my office. Our house sounds huge because many rooms have multiple names… It’s to assist with the idea that we’re incredibly rich, in the hope that someone will just give us lots of money…**
** Hey, Mitt Romney receives*** more money in a year than I’ll probably earn in the next 20, so if he just gave us, say a few million (the kind of pocket change he might lose in the sofa cushions) then we could be set for life****…. Or, someone might notice our double barrelled surname, assume we’re from Old Money and offer us, say, an estate, or a Duchy, or something****. Hey! Queen Liz! Over here ;)
*** Earns, I feel, is an inappropriate term.
**** Hope springs eternal, eh.
