Hair on Fire

I am not sure about you, but this is the time of the year I feel as though I'm running around with my hair on fire. Whether or not this is a real expression for how busy you are, it's always been part of my life. Of course there are always things that you are busy with in your work world, but at this time of the year, you layer all of the family get-togethers and holiday preparations on top of that to create complete chaos. That actually reminds me that although I have my Christmas letter written, it doesn't count if I don't send it out. Like last year. I wrote a great letter that never went anywhere. 

At the moment, the real thrust of what I'm thinking about are the large number of projects needing to be accomplished in the shop. I will try to capture all of them here.

* Jaye's teardrop trailer - I have virtually all of the interior work done on the trailer now. All that remains (I make myself laugh) is to complete the outside work. I'm going to cover the outside with birdseye maple veneer and several coats of marine varnish. Then I will finish the doors and the aluminum trim.
* Sara's kitchen - After finally coming to agreement on what the new kitchen should look like, it's now time to build. I am quite excited about it, but there are in excess of 800 parts that need to be roughed out, cut to final size, assembled and finished. Honestly, in order to even think about finishing the kitchen cabinets, I need to get the trailer out the door.
* Barrister's book case #1 - Made from quartered white oak. This is for the guest room and will match the rest of the furniture I've built.  This is a Christmas gift for Sara, so don't tell her about it.
* Barristers's book case #2 - Made from white maple. This is for my office at work because it seems ridiculous that I have an office with Sauder particleboard furniture in it.  It was imperative that I correct this and since I was making one set, the second is pretty easy.
* Several cutting boards - Typically during the holiday season, I have situations come up where people that I know and love need gifts quickly either for gifting, or in some cases as "door prizes" for various organizations. I try to be ready to help.
* Etsy - This isn't woodworking, but it is something that I need to return to. I need to show the world some of the things I am working on, and see if it sparks interest.  You never know when one project will lead to an idea in someone else. These times that we live in, Etsy and Pinterest are great places for this kind of iterative thinking.  Take an idea, tweak it a little, you have a whole new thing.
* Top secret - At Thanksgiving I was asked to be involved in a woodworking project that is quite exciting, but I can't tell you about yet.  More to come on this one.

Those are the things I have going at the moment, along with all of the activities that come as a part of the holidays.  I know that the things that come out of the shop are well thought of and are often items that will remain in families for years.  This makes me smile and makes me very proud of what I do.

I would love to know what you are doing around the Christmas season. Are you working on projects that will make another smile? Send me  pictures or comments if you have a chance. The amount of talent that exists in the crafting/building community is amazing.

One last thing. I want to say a special Hello to a woodworker in Dade County, Florida. I don't know who you are, but I know that in the last while you were in a class taught by my cousin Jan. Yes, in fact, she is my cousin. We grew up together riding bikes and laughing through our summers, and I miss her. I was informed through the family grapevine that you and she had met in a class in Florida and that you had been skeptical that I was actually Jan's cousin. Track me down and say Hi. I would love to know more about your woodworking.

By the way, have I mentioned to you how incredibly small the world can be?  Reach out and find a new friend or another woodworker.

Am I Square With You?

I grew up in a small community in Southeast Iowa. As a county seat, the community was important. One thing I learned while growing up in Sigourney was how that community of people took care of each other.

The person I am thinking about today was a developmentally challenged gentleman who lived in town. If I remember right, his name was Thollie. Now, had he lived in a larger town or city, he probably would have ended up as one of the homeless living on the street, or maybe in some type of institution. In Sigourney, though, he had a place to live and a whole group of people who looked out for him.

If you ever spent time with this man, the last thing he would ask before leaving you was, "Am I square with you?" The question was important to him, as was your answer. He would wait for you to respond.  He didn't want to feel as though he had ever shorted anyone in the dealings he had with them. It was almost as though he realized how fortunate he was to live in this type of environment.

As I look back, I realize just how blessed I was to live there too, but I was less likely to notice it. It is amazing to think about how many times people helped me out because we were part of the same community. It would have been just as easy to have fallen to the other side of the equation and been very harsh. One April when I was in college, I ran into Rob Marget. I knew I was overdrawn at his bank, actually by several hundred dollars. All Rob asked me was if I had summer employment and would I get the bank paid back when I had that job. No overdraft charges, no penalties, and no interest for what was actually a loan. He just wanted to make sure that in the end, we would be all right, that we would we be square. This was my experience living in that small town and I know that others had similar experiences.

I laugh at some of the students I went to school with at Drake. Generally, the student body at Drake came from a different economic status than I did. They were much more likely to have arrived in brand new cars and an allowance that was far beyond my family's means. From everything that I could tell, they lived in communities more like the one I live in today (Des Moines) than the one I grew up in. But as an undergrad, in a time where everything was quite surreal, these same students LOVED the cheese I brought from home for grilled cheese sandwiches on Sunday nights when the dining hall was closed. For those of you that haven't already made the intellectual jump, this cheese was square, came in about a three pound block and was part of the surplus food items available to families under a certain income level. Yup, my friends just loved the government surplus cheese. Again, though, it was a way my community took care of me and the people I surrounded myself with, even into my college years.

About two years ago, I started spending time in Neola, Iowa, where my company has a facility. It was the first time in years that I had been in a community that small. Sure enough, as I got to know the people in town I discovered there was a gentleman there much like the Thollie I had known at home. The community has things they ask him to do to keep him busy and out of trouble, and everyone looks out for him and takes care of him.

I absolutely know and believe this happens in larger communities as well, but I think it's harder to see. I knew Thollie well while living  in Sigourney. He was part of the community and involved in my daily life. You would literally see him everywhere and he went out of his way to wave or say hello. Where I live now, someone like him could live only blocks from me and I wouldn't know them. For heavens sake, I have a cousin that lived a short distance from me and it took a while to figure that out.

I'm not sure how I can be better at recognizing people who might need my help and then figure out how to help them, but in today's world, it seems more important than ever.

Okay, there is my personal challenge for the day. And  you have all heard it. We will see what can be done. Then, when all is said and done, I want to make sure that whoever I have dealt with, I am square with them.

Preparation

I spent the first part of my adulthood working for a company named Payless Cashways. The company is long gone at this point, but the people continue on. This morning in a post on Facebook, Scott F posted a note which really made me think. He posted a picture of his name tag from back then and said, "Just ran across this, made me realize how many great people I met through the years at a once dominant powerhouse in the industry. Never realized I was being groomed to potentially be a goal-oriented person with many traits from many people I was fortunate enough to work with along this crazy journey."

I thought about this all day. In every encounter we have in a lifetime, good or bad, we take something from the moment. I agree with Scott. Much of who I am today was shaped by the leadership of that company so many long years ago.  I know the way I look at expenses in a business and the relationship between expense and profit is one really solid example. We were all taught early-on how to manage in plentiful times and in times that were not. We didn't succeed in the long run, but I know we kept the company alive a lot longer because of the things those who had come before us taught along the way.

So I ask myself - what am I teaching today? Am I providing good lessons to others that will help them in the future to move lives and businesses along? I hope I am. I know the biggest thing any of us can do is to help the next generation to learn from the past. Not only did Payless do this for me, but my family also believed strongly in this virtue.  I remember walking around the cemetery with my grandmother as she talked endlessly about family that had come before and what they had done and how they changed things for the better. Of course I wish I had listened more at the time, but I did absorb a lot of it, and it has helped make me a more fully rounded person today. So again, back to the question - how am I helping the next group to be more ready than I was?

One of the things I have recognized in the last year or so is just how cyclical the world is. I know this is not new information, but sometimes it just takes time to totally get it. When I was in my teens in the late sixties and seventies, I really couldn't understand why my parent's generation didn't understand the way I looked at things. I also remember thinking I was sure I would never be that way. Fast forward three or four decades, and sure enough, I look at the people coming into the workforce and I think their approach is crazy. If I really stop and think about it, this generation's approach to this decade is no different than mine was to my parent's time. It is just different. And, with this, I have probably gotten a little more set in my ways and less likely to be as open to new thoughts and new ways of thinking. There, I said it.

So Scott, here comes the challenge to both of us, and probably a bunch of others too. The next time we find ourselves in a conversation where we want to tell the other person they are "just crazy" in the way  they are looking at something, we have to stop. We need to think of all of those people that took time and invested energy into each of us to make us better and more fully rounded, and we need to move that forward. We need to stop and listen and work to understand what is being said and why. Then we need to work to find middle ground and work with this next generation to help them to be more prepared than they are now. We need to do this to honor the time and energy that others spent on us when we were still feeling our way. I know that there were things I did and said in those times that I probably should not have been forgiven for, but I was, so I could move forward.  Let's find people that we can help in the same way.

Good God, Son!

I was raised, in large part, by my maternal grandparents. It wasn't that mom was not on the scene, it was just that with working and trying to get everything done, she needed help. The help came in the form of my grandparents. Like so many in our lives, I know I told them thank you, but as I continue to experience more and more of life, I wish I had one more chance to say those words. So, I do it here. I am so thankful for my grandmother, Jo, and my grandfather, Art. They have much to do with who I am today and the way I look at the world. They shaped me at some of the most critical times in my life, causing me to be as inquisitive and questioning as I am.

With that said, there is one lesson Grandpa taught me over and over that I believe has a place in the world today. Of course with the lesson comes a story.

Much of what we did at Grandma and Grandpa's house revolved around the horse business. Grandpa had always been around horses and was very good with them. We also had a reputation for being able to make progress with horses which others had not been able to do much with. One day we had a horse that didn't much want to be trained. Now, Grandpa had approached this horse just like every other, first getting them used to being around people. Part of this was simply working with the horse, getting them used to human contact, and then adding equipment that came with being ridden and driven. One thing we did was take a burlap sack and run it all over the horse, getting them used to being touched. On this particular day, with this particular horse, things didn't go well. Grandpa had tied the horse's lead rope to the corral fence and proceeded to run the burlap sack over her. All hell broke loose. By the time it was over, Grandpa was on the ground, with a horse on top of him still tied by the lead rope to the fence, She couldn't get her feet under her because her head was being held in the air, and Grandpa could not get out from under her. He called for me, had me untie the lead rope and as she got up, made himself the smallest little ball possible. Somehow, he did not get stepped on. Overall, successful all around. We started the whole process over again, much more carefully this time, and things went much better. She wanted to be a good horse, but she had been scared.

Now, from my vantage point, there was really nothing out of the ordinary here. Things like this just happened. You dealt with them and moved forward.

When we were at dinner that evening, I decided that telling this story of the excitement of the day would be appropriate. I told the entire story with every detail I could muster, even digging down into the emotions I felt when seeing my grandfather under a flailing horse. I remember mentioning that I wondered if this would be the broken ribs for the year, as rarely did we make it through a summer without at least one cracked or broken rib. Fortunately, neither happened. As I finished telling everything I could think of - the whole time watching my grandmother's face grow pale, and not fully understanding why - my grandpa said, "Good god, son. Do you have to tell everything you know?"

In hindsight, this summed up the whole situation. I had been privy to something pretty phenomenal and it was just not possible for me to keep it to myself.

I faced these words from my grandfather at other times in my life. Each time he started, I knew I had done it again - not understanding when it was time to just keep my mouth shut.

These words should resound more and more in the world today. With our ability to instantly communicate, it has become difficult to know exactly what should and should not be communicated. I would venture to say that almost all of us run into a story or a situation we would LOVE to share, but then we consider the people affected by our releasing the story and we determine it would hurt more than it would help.

The problem is that there are many who just don't have that filter, They believe a good story, or even bit of untested information should be immediately released to the entirety of the listening world. Off goes another story on a rampage. We must be the line of first defense in deciding what should and should not be told. I will always lean on Grandpa's words. "Good God, son..." is a good place to start. What litmus test will you use?

Mileposts

Each of us comes from a particular time with a certain set of basic information included because of that time. Whether you are a member of the Silent Generation or Baby Boomer or Generation Y - Millennial or Generation Alpha, this is always true. I am solidly a Boomer, born almost right in the middle of that group. It carries baggage, just like being a Generation Alpha will carry, although much of theirs is yet to be seen as we are only six years into that group's life.

One of the things I remember about being a child and young adult in the group to which I was born was how big everything was. Computers took whole rooms in a building and required their own cooling system; televisions were all console models and had to sit away from the wall because of the length of the main tube in the device. Heck, I remember a hay baler my Uncle Norm owned which you could climb up into and included its own motor. And then there were the cars. The first car I owned - a 1973 Grand Sedan - would easily haul eight, sometimes more, and had a trunk big enough to house a small family. I have kidded over the years that I never parked it, I actually docked it.

Anyway, in those days when someone reached 100,000 miles on a vehicle, it was a really big deal. Okay, first of all, the odometers wouldn't register more than a hundred thousand miles, so when you went past that number, it would turn over to zero. This was such a big deal, it was not uncommon to get the family and have them all in the car when this happened. It definitely would have been worth a post on Facebook - if Facebook would have been around.

A couple of weeks ago, I reached a hundred thousand miles on my truck. It was such a big deal I actually didn't even notice it until after the event had occurred. The biggest thing it did for me was to make me consider how long I wanted to own this truck. I decided to keep it for 220,000 miles before looking for something different. One big difference about this milepost from when I was younger is that number no longer indicates the end of a vehicle's life. People routinely put more miles on their vehicles. Many people I know purchase used vehicles with more than a hundred thousand miles and don't think a thing about it. My workplace owns vehicles with well over 600,000 miles that effectively do their job every single day.

There are certainly other types of mileposts in our lives, often regarding age. I hit fifty in 2006 and by all accounts, I was a horrible human about it. I didn't want to be there and I wasn't afraid to tell everyone about it. I actually have a couple of friends that have never reached out to me on my birthday since because of the person I was that day. Last year, I hit the sixty number. I actually tried to be more gracious and think I succeeded to some level. Probably still have work to do.

Earlier this week one of our neighbors turned 100. Now, that is a milepost. He has had a life filled with opportunities to learn and see things that others in his group never did. He has a tremendous perspective on all of it. He lives by himself in his own home and still drives his own car. Many of us (myself included) believe everyone ends up in a nursing home, but it is not true. I listened to a great TED talk yesterday showing that the percentage of older Americans living in nursing homes is only four percent and this percentage is actually dropping. Here is the link if you want to check it out.

What I would like to leave you with today is there are tons of mileposts out there. We see and go by them every day. They are only reminders of what we have done and where we have been. They need not shape us in negative ways. Our reaction is completely up to each of us. Yes, I will admit that more of my parts hurt today than when I was twenty-one, but the things I know and have learned in those intervening years are worth the miles.

If you ever watched the movie Dead Poet's Society with Robin Williams, remember the phrase Carpe diem and go out and seize today. For those of you in central Iowa, the State Fair is going on. That could be a great place to do exactly this. For those of you from other parts of the world, why are you not here at the Iowa State Fair?

Rhetoric

Having just celebrated the birth of the nation and thinking about the considerable rhetoric permeating our country each day, I stopped today to think about the way we converse with each other. While this is a much-discussed topic, and conversations take up a great percentage of our days, a couple of things in the last few weeks it made me think about it again.

Two weeks ago, one of my drivers had a wreck. Fortunately, no one was injured. But here is what I find interesting. When I was told about it, the first thing people wanted to talk about was the damage to the vehicle. Honestly, at that point, I could not have cared less. The first thing I wanted to know was that my driver was okay.

In the middle of that conversation I was taken back to the day when one of my kids had a small fender bender. Again, the first thing that they wanted to tell me was about the vehicle. Same situation, I could have cared less.

One of the things we need to concentrate on is where in our conversations we talk about the important things. Given the examples I just wrote about, both times the first thing I wanted to know was that everyone was okay. All the rest was relatively unimportant details to deal with later.

So where this brings me is to ask how many times our personal conversations dance around important topics rather than discussing them first?

My answer, regarding my life and the way I deal with others says that all too often I never get to the important topic. We know each other on a superficial level, having conversations about the news and other minutia around the day.

There are some relationships that I need to think about, work on, and change so that they can be better and stronger moving forward. As my children began driving, one of the things I told them was around exactly this. I told them, and I’ve told everyone that ever worked for me: tell me the important things first. If you’re in a wreck, tell me that you’re okay; if you fail a test, tell me what the plan is to overcome; if you’re changing your life plans, tell me all the details.

When I worked for Payless Cashways, as managers, many of us subscribed to the saying “ask for forgiveness rather than permission.” This worked relatively well for me, right up until the day that my senior vice president asked if that’s what I had done in a situation. It had been. I'd made a decision that I knew if I had asked permission, I would not have been allowed to do it. So I went right ahead and did what I wanted to do and waited for the questions and the consequences. I hadn't expected to be asked if that it been my methodology. When faced with that question, all I could do was answer honestly and truly feel embarrassed at my thought process.

Today, I think about the importance of honest and upfront communication. With all of these random thoughts, the place I land is that it is more necessary now than ever before to be truthful with those people who are important to us.

If you have a boss, tell them what’s really on your mind - you may be surprised at the outcome.

If you have friends and family that you care about deeply, tell them, don’t just think that they will know. Start with the important conversation first.

Think about conversations through the filter that is the way you would like to hear things. This will not fail you, however it may present some different opportunities and directions than you’ve seen in the past.

And for the sanity of everyone involved, if you’re in a wreck, and you need to call somebody, first tell them that you’re okay.

Okay, those are the thoughts of this simple woodworker from central Iowa. I get to go to the shop again today and work on the teardrop trailer for my sister. This is a labor of love, and I am thankful for every moment of it. Have a good week.

Opportunities

The last few days have been hot.  I would tell you middle-of-August hot, but I had a friend point out to me the other day it is somewhat typical to have days like this in June.  In the Midwest, in the summer, when you have weather like this, one of the things which we all think of is the possibility of a tornado.  Typically, this is something which comes in the evening as the day cools and the different temperatures swirl together. 

On June 13, 1968, forty-nine years ago, my mother, sister and I were on the floor of a cabin on West Okoboji in northwestern Iowa when several tornadoes hit at once.  The devastation was incredible.  The miracle was there were no lives lost.  The following days were miraculous for an eleven year old boy who loved mechanical stuff.  Mrs. Jones, the lady that ran the resort we were staying on offered me a bow saw and told me to cut up anything that had fallen.  And I did ... what fun.

But I'm not really thinking of any of this today.  I'm thinking about lost opportunities and the times I have said “No” when I should have said “Yes."  This time at the lake was a really good example.  After the initial cleanup was done, a lot of people flocked to the lake to help out.  One group of people that came were scuba divers.  In this group was a man from my hometown.  His name was Bob Smith and his son Larry was in my class through high school.

Apparently, one of the tornadoes at the lake had actually become a waterspout, pulling water into the sky and effectively lowering the level of the lake.  Immediately after the storm, we went outside and could see things that had been blown into the lake sticking out of the water.  Later, when Bob went in to recover these items, he found them under multiple feet of water.  This still isn't the important part of this story, but we are on the way there.

One day Bob asked if I wanted to try out scuba.  He wasn't talking about a class or anything like that; he was just going to get me “geared” up and take me into the lake.  This is something I had always wanted to do, but when presented with the opportunity, right then and there, I said “No thank you.” 

What? Why would I do such a thing?  Looking back on it now, I have no idea, but I remember being scared - not of being hurt or worse, but being scared I wouldn't be able to do it perfectly the first time.  Wow.  The funniest thing about it now is that seven years later, Bob was the person who took me through the training and got me scuba certified.

I am listening to a book on tape by Jon Acuff, and he speaks about this exact situation.  He talked about being invisible and making mistakes.  In that lake, in NW Iowa, if I had made a mistake, it would have been in front of one or two people.  I wasn't working on a television special with Jacques Cousteau diving off the Galapagos Islands to be viewed by millions.  It was a learning opportunity and a mistake would have been in front of a small group who knew I was just learning this skill.

But with all of this laid out there, this was not the time to learn this lesson.  There were multiple more times in which I behaved exactly the same way.  Whether it was skating, skateboarding, downhill skiing, waterskiing, it was always the same. I didn't want to make a fool of myself, and I always thought there would be another chance.

Well, sometimes there aren't second chances and the opportunity in front of you will be the only time it presents itself.  So, what am I going do with this info?  I am going to work  to  turn to the Jim Carrey movie and become the “Yes Person.”  I'm going to work to say yes at least more than I say no.  I'm going to work to recognize what things really are don't-miss opportunities.  And I am going to do a better job of recognizing when I am invisible.  When can I make a mistake or a misstep without the whole world watching?

You have been a big part of this over the last couple of years for me.  You've been part of an audience that reads the words I put out there, and when I make mistakes, you just understand them and we move on.  When I run into many of you face to face, you are supportive and encouraging of the things that I talk about.  I appreciate you and thank you for following me on this journey.

Now, go out there and find a way to do something that you want to and that you have said “No” to in the past.  Have a great day.

Lemonade

As the summer heats up, I find myself thinking of earlier times. People call them better times, and often they may be, but I just think of different times.

I was a small Iowa townie. My community was 2500 people, almost all of whom knew me. Not only my direct family, but my extended family lived there. Often times, I had trouble telling the difference between the two.

As days grew longer in the summer, we spent much more time at my grandparents' home. Both of my grandparents worked for the county - Grandpa drove a rock truck and Grandma worked in the county engineer's office. Neither one of them ever knew how to take time off, so summer at Grandpa and Grandma's was always about work. Mostly, it was about horses and the training of horses. Some summers we had as many as twenty horses belonging to other people we worked with and trained.

One night last week, as it was just reaching dusk, my memory took me back to those days. It was the time of the day you reached for all day long. This was when the last horse of the day was worked, cleaned, and put back in the barn. This was the time of day when friends and people that came over would say their goodbyes and head home. This was the time of day for a long exhale, finally finished with all that needed to be accomplished.

This was also the time my grandmother would break out the lemonade. This was never any kind of just-add-water product. This was lemonade made the way my grandmother had always made it - real lemon juice, real sugar, ice and water. This was lemonade served in the burgundy pitcher she always used for lemonade. It was good lemonade in and of itself but what came with it was better.

This was the time of the day when everyone there would stop, sit and relax, discussing the things that were on their mind. These were the times I got to see the world through others' eyes. Whether the discussion was about gasoline prices or the amount of rain we'd had, I always learned something. Even more important, at this particular gathering I was treated more like an adult and less like a child.

I wonder what the equivalent is today.

As we raised our own children it was hard to break them away from all the diversions in their life. The gameboys and computer games, the books, movies and television - all of it. We did not have the equivalent of drinking lemonade at my grandmother's picnic table. I think that was a miss. The interesting thing for me is now that the kids are older, when they're home, we work to make this exact kind of time. Although all our days are crazy busy, we try to stop at least once during the day and just talk. And just like those times of my grandma's house these moments are some of my favorites. This is when I find out what my children think and what's important to them. This is when I find out about new trends, new musical artists, and information I didn't even know existed.

In this mile-a-minute world in which we live, I encourage you to try and find time to have a glass of lemonade. Find time with family, friends, acquaintances, and even people you don't know very well but would like to know better.If we can find a way to do this we will all grow from the experience.

Like Minded

I have been fortunate in my life to have worked and played with a very diverse group of people. All the way back to my days at Drake, I remember conversations about things that make us different - family traditions and experiences from our past. All these things make us different and and if we choose to learn from each other - make us better.

I carry a great deal of this experience with me daily, and it shapes the way I look at the things I have to handle. It makes the way I interact with people different than it would have been without these experiences. I've been listening to a book by Jon Acuff and he talks about the fact that sometimes, until you know the things a person has experienced, you can’t really understand the way they interact with you. This is so true, and maintaining a “lens” through which we look at others, based upon their history and not ours, is tough work.

And then ... we get a chance to spend time with people that are a little more like us. I got to experience this environment a couple of weeks ago at the annual “Weekend with Wood.” These people, all 250 of them, are my people. They love the things I love. They reflect back the way that I view a lot of the world, or at least the part of it about woodworking. Now, based on the group, and me telling you they were a reflection of me, evidently I'm a 75 year old male with some hearing loss.

That weekend was spent talking to people who not only love the same avocation as me, but in many cases they are much more accomplished at it. I spend time at these events learning from the other participants. Pile on top of all of that the wonderful speakers brought in for the event, and it was just about a perfect teaching/training/networking event.

What did I learn?  First and foremost I learned again, if something is not working, look to your process. So many times the process is the flaw. My case in point is around my rail and stile doors. I've gotten pretty good at these, which is a good thing, as I am about to tie in to Sara’s new kitchen, but there has been one ongoing issue I have not been able to fix. In the middle of one of the session, the crystal bullet fired into my brain. I realized the process I use has a couple of steps reversed. In fixing the order of process, my issue will be resolved. Worth every cent I spent.

I also convinced myself it might be possible for me to start working with items which are not straight. I've always said my woodworking is about straight lines and right angles. Well, what do you know! I may actually be able to add some curves and sculpture to my work. This opens up a whole new set of things I can produce. And now ... after all the times I've said NO, it might even be time to think about building chairs with shaped seats. Crazy, right?  I know.

Finally, I learned once again there are always more “toys” out there to add to the woodworking arsenal. I took my first class in CNC (computer numerically controlled) woodworking. This has been in the big commercial shops for years and was always something that amazed me. Now it is coming to the home shop for only about $6000.00 or (of course) more. To use the words of one of my children, “I Need That.” On top of this new home shop technology, I spent time around the folks from Epilog. They make a laser engraving system that is just awesome. If you are considering sending me something for Father’s Day, Thanksgiving, or Kwanza, please check out their website. This will make the things that you build much cooler by adding a little “bling.” https://www.epiloglaser.com/index.htm

I should have bought one of these years ago, but I needed a way to get to work and it was either a truck or a laser, and you just can’t drive a laser.

So, in this diverse world I love so much, I spent three glorious days with people that like to do the same kind of hobby work I do. I found it uplifting, encouraging and just downright motivating. My friend, Russell, is the first benefactors. He needed a project completed and I knocked it out more quickly than I usually do. I've included a picture - a desktop for the new standing desk he is putting in his office.

And finally, if you are a woodworker, wear your hearing protecting, darn it. Hearing loss is slow and irreversible. It would be nice if when I go back to Weekend with Wood in a couple of years we can all still talk to each other. Have a great day.

Interconnected

I had a conversation the other day about how the world has become more insular. We have the ability to shop from home, have all of our goods delivered to us by Amazon (not by drones...YET) and watch all of the entertainment and news we want without ever having to talk to a single solitary soul.  Heck, the time is soon coming when we will get in our autonomous cars and never interact with the world as we go from one place to another.  I may even be able to get in a car in Iowa, tell it to take me to see my sister in Maine, and sleep most of the way there.  Now, that would be awesome.

But then, I was struck this week by the weird way that things can be interconnected, even if only one person really sees it.  Attached to this blog is a picture of a kind of strange box - something I just built in the shop. It is for a gentleman - a friend - that I work with. He sells firewood on the side.  He does all of the work to get and bundle the wood and then sells it along the road.  Several months ago, I asked if he would like some of the small bits and pieces that I generate in the shop to include with the offering as kindling.  He thought that would work and we tried it.  Now, every week or so I bring him a box of kindling. Apparently his customers like it.  Jason places the box I bring him beside his firewood and often it is just picked up by the first customer, rather than portioned out as we had thought it might be done.  As an aside, he mentioned that if he could secure a more stable box to the ground and simply pour the pieces of kindling into it, the process would be better.  Off to the shop I went.

Now, here come all of the connections.  The plywood this box is a piece of 3/4" treated plywood we used for a ramp that we needed when my daughter was in a wheelchair.  And that piece of plywood came from a family friend, Jim B, from the Twin Cities.  He hauled it to Des Moines to help me build the ramp.  Several lifelong friends work at the lumberyard he brought it from. Interestingly enough, Jim has decided it is time to do something new with his life.  I'm certain that every one of us who knows Jim, hopes this is one of the best decisions that he has ever made.

For the top of the box, I used finished oak pieces which came from a neighboring Toybox unit owner.  Over the last year or so, my shop has become the place where wooden things go when nobody knows exactly what to do with them.  Sort of like the home for misfit toys in the Pixar movie.  In this case, the pieces came from an oak bunk bed that was no longer needed.  I've used parts of that bed in several different projects, now with some of the last of it going to the kindling box.

Next on the list is something that you may barely be able to see - a brand mark declaring that the item was made in 'Jim's Toybox.'  The brand was a Christmas/Birthday gift from my kids, Lyndsey and Andrew, in Lees Summit, Missouri.  It was such a thoughtful gift.  I use it on everything that I make and each time that I use it, I wonder how many years into the future that brand will still be visible. While the kindling box won't be around that long, the rocking horse I'm building for the Iowa State Fair Corndog Kickoff will be a treasured childhood toy for many years to come.

As I think about all the people, places, and processes involved in creating a simple kindling box, I am amazed. This item started my thought process today, as I considered the ways the world is interconnected without people even realizing it. Over the next days, weeks, and months, people will stop by Jason's house to buy firewood and pick up kindling. Through that action they will become part of a much bigger interconnected story, though they have no idea these connections even exist.

Okay, that seems deep enough for today. My challenge is to think about the interconnectivity in your life and the lives of those you know. Often times, thinking about and recognizing them can bring a smile.

Exciting things are happening at the Toybox. Still working on my sister's camper -  I need to share more pictures. Additionally, I started building a desktop for a friend, and another person has reached out to me about building custom bookcases. Things are busy at the shop.

I hope my words give you a moment to think, hopefully about people and connections that you haven't thought of for long time. Take a moment today and reach out to one of those people. You may be amazed at what it brings back to you.

Long View

The other day I was having a conversation with a friend when he asked me a very interesting question: What do you suppose old people think about?

Okay, so I had to dig in deeper. There had to be more to the question. As we talked through it, I realized his question actually related back to a conversation I had with my Grandmother when she turned seventy. I may have already told you about this. On her seventieth birthday, Grandma decided she had reached the age where she was no longer gong to tell people what they wanted to hear. Instead, she was going to tell them what was really on her mind. That completely related to the conversation last week. My friend's question was really about getting older - seeing and dealing with more things and having less patience with people not listening to you when you KNOW what you are telling them is right.

In the middle of this thought process I was transported back to being an In-Store Supervisor with Payless Cashways. I was actually an In-store for a long time compared to many people I came into the mangement training program with. A lot of this had to do with the fact I really didn't want to move. What's hilarious about that is that once I got over that issue, we moved seven times in ten years. Talk about pros. We were.

Anyway, I was at the Hickman Road store in Clive, Iowa for several years as an In-store. The way the job worked, the inside of the store was divided into three roughly equal parts. The three in-store supervisors each had one section and reported to the Assistant Manager. The positions rotated to a new person any time someone was promoted, or otherwise left (if you catch my drift). Because of the number of years I was there, I had all of the areas several times.

My store manager was a gentleman named Denny. I learned a ton from him. I am the leader/manager I am today - partially because of him. I certainly do appreciate the teacher/trainer he was. We are getting away from the story. On this particular day, Denny called me into his office. I could tell I was in some kind of trouble. As we talked, he explained to me that I was no longer going to be able to manage the cashers. Although this was just fine with me, I decided I should ask why. Denny went on to explain that I was making too many cashiers cry. In digging through the series of information, what we both realized was that I had reached a point where I was unwilling to listen to any of their excuses/reasons for not doing the job correctly. I had just heard all of the crap too often before. It was like Klinger coming in to tell Colonel Potter the reasons he should be sent home. Potter had heard it all before.

This was the question I was being asked last week. Is there a time when you have heard and seen so much that you no longer  care to deal with a lot of the crap people throw at you?  I believe the answer is yes, with a couple of caveats.  First, I think each of us has the ability to deal with repetitive or trivial questions, but the amount we can deal with is in direct proportion to the amount of other things going on in our lives. When we are extremely busy or challenged, our ability to deal with these types of questions and behaviors is far less than when we are relaxed and not as busy. The second caveat is that the ability to deal with trivial matters is directly affected by the amount we like the person doing this to us. If it is someone we like a lot, they can ask trivial/repetitive questions forever and we will keep answering. If it is someone that has driven us a little crazy from the beginning, this will always be an issue.

So the question that came at me kind of answers itself. When someone has lived a long time, and seen a lot of things, my experience has been they are always willing to help with something or answer a question - but only once. My grandfather was the first to teach me this. He would give me all the time I needed the first time. After that, he believed I should know what to do.

I really think this is the way a lot of our seniors view this. They will always help us, but we should see them as the resource they are. They are a cherished resource - not to simply be used on mundane matters which could be figured out other ways. This is actually much like some other cultures who see their elderly as a resource rather than a liability. Maybe we should think more about that and recognize our more senior members of the job, the family, the community - for the long view they have and are willing to share,

Call your parents and grandparents today if you can and tell them how much you appreciate the help and knowledge they offer you, all of the time.

Shop Blest

First, yes I know "blest" is not the standard spelling of the word blessed, I just thought it looked better. Or at least more fun. One of the things I've done each fall and spring for several years now is attend an educational series that the Woodsmith Store sponsors. They are on Thursday evenings and typically last for about an hour. They cover a great many topics, and even when it's something I know about, I always learn something. A couple of weeks ago, the biggest thing I learned was how incredibly fortunate I am to have the shop space I have.

There was a conversation going on about table saws  It is clear to almost everyone that this piece of equipment is the center of most shops.  Admittedly, if you are a scroll sawyer, or a turner, this is not the case, but for the rest of us, it is. The actual conversation was around what you have to move to be able to work in your shop.  I remembered working on an armoire for Sara while living in Lees Summit. In order to get anything done, I had to pull two cars out of the shop, and then get out equipment and material before I even started to work. It seriously took me an hour to get started and an hour to tear down at the end. That was with good weather. If the weather was bad, it was more of a challenge as I had to get the place warmed up as well.

Now, I come to the shop and am ready to work the minute I walk in the door. Heat is automatic in the winter thanks to a setback thermostat and I am considering air conditioning. My equipment is dialed in so measurements are accurate since I don't have to move things. I have the space needed to work on a teardrop trailer for my sister. Even with a trailer sitting in the shop, I still have plenty of room to work. Listening to these other woodworkers describe the things they had to do to be able to work made me realize how truly fortunate I am.

Then, while I was thinking about woodworking, my mind floated to a bigger place. I know we all face challenges each and every day, but it struck me how blessed I really am. Even though as a family, we really didn't have much when I was growing up, my sister and I really did not know it. The community we were born into and the family we were part of overcame the lack of tangible wealth. The community, and our family made up for it all. We did a lot with a little.

Jaye and I had college educations, because my mother truly believed that if someone was willing to fill out enough paperwork there was a way to go to college. We both had student debt when we came out but we dug in and took care of that as soon as we could. I went into the workplace and thought I would work at my first job until I retired. This wasn't the case, but I have been lucky as I have been able to be a "broken field runner" in the workplace. I have been able to learn things and pivot into a new job/career using all that I learned.

I guess all of these things came pouring in around me while I was thinking about my shop because of the world we find ourselves in today.  In large part, the Sigourneys of the past are gone.Places where people are extended family. Places that take care of each other. They are much less common today than they used to be. One of the places I have the opportunity to work in right now is Neola, Iowa. I think Neola is much like what I am talking about. That community has been able to raise money and get projects done unlike many other communities their size. If you have never stopped in there, you should visit.They have some amazing things going. And their HooDoo Days is a celebration to be experienced.

Anyway, I got a long way off track there, but I know much of what would help this country right now is if we were more like Neola or Sigourney. If we knew our neighbors and those around us. If we took the time to try to understand. If we walked a mile in their shoes.  I didn't grow up in a perfect place, but when I cross the Keokuk County line and start waving at people, just because I might know them, I know I was blessed to learn all of that. So, tomorrow on the way to work rather than yelling or honking at someone, I am going to wave and start my own little movement.

 Why don't you join me?

Gatherings

Whether it is just the time of year, or the holidays, I have been thinking about something lately.  What are the reasons families and friends gather? Groups come together for the absolute best of times: birthdays, anniversaries, commencements, weddings - you know the list. Lately however, I have watched a few gatherings which are a more difficult, and they have made me think.

For all of us, there have been times when family members are sick or dying. If not yet, there will be these times. They are simply unavoidable - as inevitable as taxes.

Throughout the last three or four weeks I've watched the house across the street. We knew one of the members of the household was fighting an end of life disease. We just weren't sure when it would happen. Then the increase in traffic alerted us to the fact that the time had come. Sara did a good job of staying connected during this time. I did not. Anyway, cars of family and friends have been across the street for the last several days, and I wonder about all of the conversations. When we meet, one of the standards things said is, "We shouldn't wait for a time like this to get together. We should get together more often."

This is what I have really been thinking about. Is this the right approach? Is this the attitude we should take at these times? I think it is not, and I will give you a couple of examples of another way to handle this. Several years ago, I went to a family gathering in What Cheer - a celebration of life for a member of my family that had passed - and we were out at the cemetery to bury the ashes. After a bit of conversation and a prayer or two, the time came to actually handle the burial.  Well, nobody brought a shovel. Now while there are families and circumstances where this would have caused an absolute meltdown, not my family. A member of my family just went to his truck, pulled out the long-handled shovel and we continued the ceremony. We all laughed, because it was funny and touching.

Fast forward to last fall - same general part of the world. We were in Thornburg for my cousin John's funeral. The crowd was enormous as John was one of those people everyone knew. They had the family visitation in the Tri-County High school in the common space at the front of the building. When I got to Berdette, John's wife, the first thing I did was make her laugh. I told her that John Ogden was the only person in my life who could get me to voluntarily walk into the Tri-County High School. For those of you not from our part of Iowa, Sigourney and Tri-County were not what you would call the best of friends, in fact, the tension and rivalry between the schools was palpable when students or graduates from the schools were in the same place.

I tell all of these stories about family gatherings for the same reason. There are good reasons to get people together and there are other times people have historically thought of as "bad" times to get people together. When I walked out of John's gathering, the second thought touched me. Yes, I will miss John, no question, but I had the opportunity to see some of the people in my life I rarely see.  Why is this considered a bad moment? Why not just see it for what it is, time to spend with family and friends. We make promises to schedule something, but the truth is, the minute we leave, our life pours in on us and another year passes before we know it.

Okay, I've wandered all over the place with this, and feel like I may have not made the point I wanted to make. The next time my family gets together, for whatever reason, I will be completely respectful of the situation, but will also take the time to hug my cousins, talk to my aunts, and do those things that makes us family. I will enjoy the opportunity to see and be with family. These people can drive me the craziest, but they have always been in my life. I need to take advantage of the fact they still are.

That's what I am thinking about today. I hope it gives you something to contemplate. Next up, I have a great thought about the size of your shop, and what this means to others. I look forward to writing it and I hope you look forward to reading it.

New Additions

Late last year, one of the greatest things that could ever happen to a person happened to me. I became a grandfather.  And like a new grandfather I did exactly what many before me had done. I went to ToysRUs, found the biggest teddy bear that they had in the place, strapped it in the seat of the truck and drove to Kansas City to meet this new Martin. Now he came into the world a little bit early, and there were some early concerns about his health, but I am happy to say that he is doing great now. It seemed to me that he was doing so great that I got him a backhoe for the sandbox for Christmas this year. Some told me that I might be early with this gift, but I want to make sure that the minute that he can take advantage of it, he is able to do just that.


After I saw Lucas in the hospital, what struck me was that I had no idea how to be a grandfather. Do I spoil this person at every turn? Do I feed him all of the foods he isn't allowed to eat at home? Do I take him to the shop at age 3 and teach him how to drive nails and use the scroll saw? Well, I am sure that all of these are things that as a grandpa I am supposed to do, but how can I tell? Is there a book? Oh so many questions. Of course, there is no instruction manual and it is all things that we will just have to learn, just like we learned how to be parents. Just like Andrew and Lyndsey are learning right now. I remember that like it was yesterday. We brought Andrew home and I had never held a baby before. Now we had one. Even though I was quite sure that Andrew was trying to communicate with us from his first day at home, we had no idea what he was asking for. It took time, and as you learned and thought you were moving forward, you soon found out that you really didn't know that much. 

Then over time, slowly at first, and then with more and more speed, what you knew and what you could interpret grew at an alarming rate and it all made sense. Until, of course, the late teenage years, but that is another story all on its own. By the time we had mastered the "kid" language we had discovered that much of it is universal. Now I can sit in a restaurant, hear a child crying and know if they are mad, hungry, or need their diaper changed. It really is just another language, but there is no class that you take, or book that you read that helps you to understand. You just have to jump in and figure it out. That is what we did with Andrew and that is what he and Lyndsey are doing with Lucas, and it will get easier with time. Hang in there, new parents. Nobody told you it would be this hard because it may have chased you off. Just hang in there. Having a new baby is pretty wonderful when you have a chance to get used to it.

Okay, speaking of a new addition that will make you happy, I added a piece of equipment to the Toybox last month.

In 1990, at a Woodworking Show, I had my first chance to look at this piece of equipment. I remember, leaning on the Powermatic table saw that had just come to market, with Chuck Wolfe from Wolfe Machinery, thinking how great it would be to own one of these. Now, twenty six years later, I finally bought one. It came in at a birth weight of 635 pounds and took a truck with a lift-gate to get it to the Toybox, but now it is in and functional and I know it will produce a lot of sawdust and parts to build things out of.  All of my excuses about starting on Sara's new kitchen cabinets had better come to an end now. There is just no excuse left to not get work done ... unless of course it is the overwhelming fact that I need a shaper. More to come there.

I hope that as 2016 ended, and we all looked at the extensive list of people that we lost this year, we also had good reasons to focus on all that was good for us in the year.  I am cautiously optimistic about 2017, both business and personal, looking for more good news in the year than bad.  I hope that this will be your case as well.