She's not the only one trying to enrich her life. It was Angus' suggestion, and I agreed to it partly because he suggested it (the aim to please is never very far away in a BPD Asian-descent) and partly because I have never done this kind of thing) that we take not only the ballroom dancing, but another course on Tuesdays as well.

This is actually pretty cool in my books-I am the kind of heinous loser that, provided I am interested in the subject, I can go to school forever. I love being in classes and learning new things, as long as they don't include things like Pythagoras Theorems, Occam's Razor, and periodic charts. If the classes are in, say, crunchy granola subjects, literature, or languages, then sign me up (I wanted to take a course in Arabic, but Angus voted that one down. He says he's too old to be learning languages.)

So Arabic lessons aside, we poured through the catalog and Angus decided to choose one for us, which I had no problem with-as far as I am concerned, if I haven't taken this kind of class then I'm interested. So we signed up, and every other Tuesday we go to a local high school, where we once again enjoy a hands-on class.

Woodworking.

Seriously.

The very basis of woodworking (also called cabinet making) is that you don't use screws and nails to connect the wood in furniture, you use intricate carvings to get them to hold. Ironically, some of these joints actually hold better than just screwing the pieces of wood together, which is what we would do.

Our class is run by a professional cabinet maker named Toby. He retired some years ago and is of the old school of woodworking-Toby started as an apprentice in woodworking when he was 14, and has done it ever since. His tools are worn and he knows one million shortcuts. He's a perfectionist, and the quickest way to wind him up is to ask if you can use the chisel as a screwdriver. The only time he uses screws are to install hinges on to doors-he can make up to three doors a day, and that may sound like nothing, but bear in mind that he does all of the sides and joints by hand, and all are done by woodworking joints.

I had never had any exposure to woodworking before, ever. And the first day of class, it was painfully obvious that not only had I never done any joinery work outside of sexual gymnastics, but I hadn't heard of the majority of the tools, either. What the fuck was a dowel? I know a mitre gauge must gauge mitres, but then what the hell is a mitre? I was handed a massive toolbox, and the only things I recognized were the hammer, the protractor, and the saw. The rest of it was a mystery.

This class has been going on for many years, and has the same people coming every year. Basically, once your learn the basics you go through a series of self-imposed projects. But if you have people that have been doing the same class for many years, so you'll have cliques, but sadly not the kind with Sarah Jessica Parker in them, more like the kind filled with people who would need more lubing to have sex than the nearest Boots would carry.

One woman in the class has been doing said projects for nearly 10 years now. Her house must be so full of joinery shit that an earthquake wouldn't blow that house down. She is the bossy, fussy know-it-all of the class, the kind of woman that you just know likes to drown kittens in her spare time.

One guy in the class has a load of beautiful old wood he is using to make a bench out of. We asked him where he got the wood from, and he told us they're his old windows. He ripped out his beautiful old vintage sash windows for modern UPVC windows. I wanted to shake him for his idiocy, but then I thought maybe I should just smack him upside the head and steal his wood.

There is a woman who would represent the Hollywood stereotype of the tough-as-nails lesbian, one I want to take to the side and say that the haircut? It's a little severe, is that the look she's going for? Well, I would say that, but she can seriously kick my ass and I don't mean that in an "I cater to butch sterotypes" kind of way-I mean she's a good 6 inches and 30 pounds on me and looks like she can benchpress our collective weights without breaking a sweat.

There are a few of the doddering variety, and one sweet elderly woman that likes to spend her entire time bringing in odd hunks of wood and spending the class time sanding the shit out of them with the lathe. This is what she does. It amuses me, I have no idea what she's going to do with all those concave objects.

Together the clique occupy the main tables and spend their time talking about politics, and as they're all Tories with a xenophobic bent, it often winds me up. We all try to drown them out, and secretly hope that as we get older, we won't get bitter either.

We learnt the basics-namely that in fine carpentry there are two main types of joints that are used, one called dovetail and one called mortise and tenon. And unlike these web page links, Toby has none of that machinery joiner work. All of the joints are made by hand and with hand-held tools. Wood is cut with a saw in the hand. Chisels are used to carve out holes for the joints. Estimations are done on the wood as there's no machine to measure things out for us.

The chisel has become my good friend.

Angus and I joined at the same time as three other newbies, and the five of us share a table and a laugh every Tuesday. We learnt how to make dovetail joints, which is the main one that Angus uses as he's making a hanging cabinet. Stupid Helen decided to make a small table, which I will then paint and smash up some tiles to attach to the top in a mosaic pattern. To make a square table I'll have to make 8 mortise and tenon joints, and those are real bastards.

Surprisingly, I love the class. I'm having a great time working with my hands, doing something that I would never, ever have done ever. We enjoy the class immensely, actually. The class is often chaos-the old dear on the lathe is a wee bit unreliable, and more than once an object she's latheing the fuck out of has come loose on the lathe and been winged across the room. The last class the wood flew off and smashed a clock on the wall, to the adrenaline rush then laugh of the rest of the class.

We're already planning what we want to take in the courses next. The lead class we want to do together is come kind of cookery class, and I want to take a pottery class while he wants a photography class, so we may take separate classes on the same night.

Sometimes, it's fun being a grown-up back in school.

I can't wait until my wobbly table is in our new house...

And for proof, I offer you dodgy camera phone pics.

-H.

Posted by: Everydaystranger at 06:54 AM | Comments (9) | Add Comment
Post contains 1284 words, total size 7 kb.

1 Last I heard a mitre is what a bishop wears on his (or her) head ... not too sure why you'd need to gauge it though. Maybe to ensure it fits properly?

Posted by: Rob at February 21, 2006 10:44 AM (jf7Lt)

2 Helen, I am SO impressed. I'd love to take classes like that, and wood has always held a fascination for me. As a child I loved pounding nails into it (and did so in the back porch floor, much to the consternation of my parents). Be sure to post photos of the cabinet and table when they are done.

Posted by: kenju at February 21, 2006 12:33 PM (2+7OT)

3 I've always wanted to try woodworking, but I have a vision of watching my fingers fall to the floor as I make that one mistake on the bandsaw. Waiting for virtual woodshop to come out on Mac X.

Posted by: Mark at February 21, 2006 02:53 PM (pB23+)

4 That's awesome, I've always wanted to learn how to woodwork.

Posted by: Kestrel at February 21, 2006 03:38 PM (oSWl1)

5 I totally had an image of Anthony Michael Hall talking about his elephant lamp and how when he pulled the trunk the light wouldn't go on the entire time I read this post. Until I got to the pictures, and remembered that you are so much cuter than AMH. Go you for tackling a table as your first project!

Posted by: amy t. at February 21, 2006 03:45 PM (zPssd)

6 Hee hee - those camera phone pics of you intensely sawing are so cute!

Posted by: Lee at February 21, 2006 08:47 PM (PYZOC)

7 He ripped out his beautiful old vintage sash windows for modern UPVC windows. I think it was about here that I began sobbing uncontrollably. But that's okay! The old biddy on the lathe cheered me right up again. By the time this class is over you'll be great at ducking flying woodworks, I imagine. Very jealous of how fierce you look in the pictures. It is impossible to look fierce while butchering a short presentation in a foreign language in front of a class of bored twentysomethings. That's what I learned this week.

Posted by: ilyka at February 21, 2006 10:03 PM (NZRFC)

8 Yay woodworking! Especially old-fashioned woodworking. Bravo and Brava!!! I've sent you an email.

Posted by: Ted at February 22, 2006 12:01 AM (+OVgL)

9 I took a wood-working class in junior high. I sliced my finger on the bandsaw and I have pretty much stayed away from saws ever since. Not so much out of fear, but out of respect for the fact that I am, simply, just a complete dork who cannot operate dangerous machinery. I admire you, Helen. And you look absolutely adorable with that saw.

Posted by: Dana at February 22, 2006 03:27 AM (euBkS)

Hide Comments | Add Comment