Behind the Scenes: A Day in My Workshop

Introduction: Where Sawdust Meets Serenity
Step into my workshop, and you’ll find a world where creativity and craftsmanship collide. It’s an 800 sqft. space adjacent to where I store my camper and lawn equipment—what started as a space to do oil changes and car maintenance. This side of the barn gradually morphed into my workshop, starting with a single workbench and a few tools, and expanding over time as my passion for woodworking grew (and as I realized how much better it was to work on projects in a dedicated space rather than the dining table). It's filled with the scent of freshly cut wood, the hum of tools, a blaring stereo and LOTS of sawdust. This is where the magic happens, where raw materials transform into handcrafted treasures. It’s rarely ever clean, and it’s never quiet, but it’s my happy place—a haven where the mess of sawdust somehow feels like serenity (or, let’s be real, an excuse not to clean the house). 

Morning: Setting the Tone
Mornings in the workshop are all about preparation. Mt. Dew in hand—because nothing productive happens without caffeine—I start the day by reviewing my project list. Whether it’s a custom cross, a sturdy step stool, or the latest addition to the Henry Hardwood lineup, every piece starts with a clear plan. Because I have two boys and a family to manage as well, my workflow often resembles a juggling act. Sometimes it’s about picking up where I left off the day before, squeezing in a few moments between homework and baseball practice. Other days, it’s a mad dash to wrap things up before family dinner, all while fielding questions like, 'What does this thingy do?' And because my shop still isn't temperature controlled (on my to-do list), I have to check to see what the temperature will allow me to do.

If I'm picking up a project in flight, then I work to figure out where I left off and what the next step is going to be. If I'm fortune enough on that day to start fresh, then I lay out my tools, double-check measurements, and search for the best piece of wood.

This is also when I make sure my tools are in peak condition. A sharp blade isn’t just about efficiency—it’s about not destroying the piece I'm working on (and avoiding the frustration of hacking at wood like it owes me money). A dull blade leads bad cuts, and burn marks on the wood. Plus, let’s be honest, avoiding finger nicks is a nice bonus.

Midday: Crafting and Problem-Solving
So by midday, the tunes are jamming' and the workshop is alive with action. Sawdust flies as I cut, shape, and assemble pieces. This is when the real fun begins—and when the unexpected often happens. A measurement might be off by a hair, a knot in the wood throws a curveball or I don't have the exact right tool or technique for something. These moments aren’t setbacks; they’re opportunities to problem-solve and adapt, maybe convince the wife I need a new tool 😉 (or, occasionally, to learn new words you’re not supposed to say around kids).

One of my favorite tools to use is my router. I have a love hate relationship with it.  It’s versatile and precise, perfect for adding grooves, decorative edges, or even practical cutouts like those on the Tonal Accessory Anchor. But if you're not careful she'll get away from you and destroy a piece of wood.

I have seen many folks talk about jigs for doing various woodworking activities, but the router has really taught me the value of them. Creating guardrails, of sorts, to let the router work for you—essentially, these are jigs or guides that help control the router’s movement, ensuring straight lines or precise curves. Think of them as bumpers in a bowling alley but for woodworking—keeping things on track and saving your project from veering into disaster.

There’s something incredibly satisfying about seeing a design element come to life under your hands—and even more satisfying when it actually looks the way you planned it.

Afternoon: Attention to Detail
As the day progresses, it’s time to focus on the finer details. Gluing, sanding, staining, and finishing require patience and precision. This is where a piece truly transforms—from a collection of parts into something cohesive and beautiful. 

I'm rocking an old 5-disc Sony stereo from my days in the dorms on base. I love listening to music of all genres, so I usually have music playing in the background (it's actually playing while I write this). It helps the time pass and makes some of the more repetitive tasks like sanding feel less tedious. And when the finish starts to dry and the wood’s natural beauty shines through? That’s the moment that makes all the effort worth it—right up until I realize I’ve got glue and stain on my shirt. Again (really drives my wife nuts).

The Mess and the Magic
Let’s be real—woodworking is messy and my OCD is all about being clean and organized. But by late afternoon, my workshop often looks like a tornado of sawdust and scraps. But there’s a method to the madness. I’ve put a conscience effort to embrace the chaos while keeping it under control, tidying up as I go to avoid losing tools or tripping over materials (usually after the first trip reminds me why I need to tidy).

This blend of order and disorder is part of the charm. It’s in the mess that magic happens—where a pile of raw wood becomes a finely crafted piece. Each project is a testament to the balance between creativity and discipline—and sometimes just plain stubbornness. Like the first few times I created half-lap joints for the crosses. I spent an entire afternoon trying different tools and methods to creep up on the proper depth of cut so I had a nice friction fit. Spoiler alert: stubbornness won, and so did the project.

Evening: Wrapping Up and Reflecting
As the day winds down, I take a step back to admire the progress. Whether it’s a completed project ready for delivery or a work-in-progress that’s shaping up beautifully, there’s always a sense of accomplishment. I think its time to get the boys in here to vacuum up the sawdust again, put my tools away, and turn off the stereo and lights, already thinking about what tomorrow will bring (and knowing I'll be thinking about my to-do list as I go to bed).

Woodworking isn’t just a job; it’s a passion. Each piece I create excites someone, teaches me something and helps me feel a sense of accomplishment. And at the end of the day, knowing that something I’ve built will bring joy or utility to someone else’s life? That’s the real reward.

Like the rabbit hutch I built, the gentleman I built it for was so happy that his adored rabbits had nice big homes and were out of the weather. He told everyone about it, and I think word of mouth might be the best advertising.

Conclusion: A Glimpse into the Craft
Thanks for stepping into my workshop for the day. Whether you’re a fellow woodworker, a curious customer, or someone who simply appreciates handcrafted goods, I hope this behind-the-scenes look gave you a deeper appreciation for the craft. If you’ve got an idea for a custom piece or just want to chat about woodworking, drop me a line. After all, every great project starts with a conversation—and maybe a little bit of sawdust.