I read an interview with The Edge years ago where he said that before every U2 tour he has to go to a record store (ask your parents) and buy all their albums (ask your hipster uncle) so he can sit down and re-learn the chords to all their songs.
At the time it felt like a tiny bit of quaint, self-deprecating fiction. But now I think it’s probably true. Because next week I’ll be visiting a piece of furniture I made seventeen years ago, so I can figure out how it was made, so I can make it again.
I knew better, but I went ahead and did it anyway. Yesterday I tried to glue together wood parts that were swollen and too big to fit into each other any more. And it didn’t go well.
Did you know that wood swells when the air gets humid? I did, but I acted like I didn’t. Because I didn’t want to wait another day. I just wanted to get this dining table done so I could deliver it and move on to the next piece.
Early last week, when I made the all the parts and their perfectly-fitted joints, the humidity...
There’s a ritual that all experienced woodworkers practice at the end of each day, just before turning out the shop lights. A real craftsman wouldn’t forget to do this any more than you’d forget to grab your phone every time you left the house. It’s one of those naggy, unconscious things:
Sticker up the parts.
It’s probably not what you’re thinking. It’s got nothing to do with stickers in the Billy-was-brave-for-the-doctor sense. A sticker in a wood shop is just a stick. Someone in history must ha...