Today, I had the bittersweet task of picking up my “Gluebo” workbench, and the remainder of the personal tools and timber I had at the PW shop. (Many thanks to Christopher Schwarz for his truck and help, and to Brendan Gaffney for his help.)
As I drove, I was thinking through the projects I built for the magazine; almost all of my larger and more involved pieces were made when I was still in the managing editor’s chair. While moving to the top of the masthead and working more directly to shape the direction of the publication was altogether rewarding, there were trade offs in time and energy that kept me out of the shop. Plus I’ve been rehabbing a house on nights and weekends instead of making furniture – and I’m a lot older and more tired than when I first picked up a handplane.
Yet I’ve forgotten none of it, and now I’ll have the time – and I hope the energy – for my muscle memory to catch back up to what I know, and to keep learning new tools and techniques. Just as soon as I finish hanging drywall and installing tile.
The drive home was a journey of both 12 and a million miles.