How big is your mantle?

Wow, that's a big piece of wood! My brother who has worked in a shop for almost as long as me, was even fooled.

Leslie wanted something big, thick and chunky. Again. But to find a piece of quartered African Mahogany this big would have been nothing short of a trip to the Ivory Coast. And, with a piece that big, the ends would have checked (cracks in the end grain) after a few. There were several designs thrown out, just nothing that would fit the home, or look good enough for this house.

This right here is why I would rather work for these folks than try to compete with a production shop. But, you gotta be willing to do what the guy next door is not willing to do.

For example, Jon from Sabrosa. Started several years back crafting cycling frames out of his garage out of steel. With his bare hands. Brilliant artist. This guy grabs a file for hours on end and won't stop till it's perfect. My fingers hurt just thinking of it. The cycles he puts out are incredible. Unless your looking for a sweet industry name attached to tubes of some new fangled material, or the next sweetest thing, you won't find attention to detail like this. What does Sabrosa even mean. seriously.

Tad at Dutchman is another fine example. He has the market cornered on rustic cabinetry. I have seen this guy spend days looking for the perfect juniper trees to make a piece, and until a few years ago that I know, his was the only shop to have homes from Utah with his cabinetry featured in Architectural Digest. But no one in the Utah County scene even knows who Tad is.

I told my pops when I went into business with him that I wanted nothing to do with production. I would rather do something different than compete with junk. I'm not one to deal with the people who are more concerned about how much their cabinets cost than what they actually look like. Utah county is notorious for this; folks who will spend more time working out the price, and not give a thought to having wasted so much time maybe doing something else more productive. Like coming up with ways to make it look super neato.

When money is not an option, that's when it gets fun. If money is just burning a hole and you appreciate custom, the possibilities are endless. You know, like spending a couple of days making a few little pieces look like one big piece.

Well, do you?

Growing up I could never understand why people would complain so much about their jobs. I never understood how people could be so bent at having to do what they just had to do. Being so "naive" I would think, well just find another job that you like. So simple. Why wouldn't you just go do something fun, something better. No brainer. Now that I am older and sooooo much smarter, I see why.

I came to this exact crossroads when my friend in English writing class told me that he was about to partake of the dusty Utah powder snowboarding at the Canyons ski resort in PC. I was out; I still had another class, homework, work and who knows what else. So I stayed and watched the flakes fall.

I couldn't take it. So I quit school, and never looked back. Ya, I heard it all, exactly what you're thinking. Alot.

That brings me to now, or last week. Every now and then, I have a week or a day that makes me rethink. The day I don't enjoy this any more, I'm done. Just find another job that I might like. Or move to a different state. Or move to a different country. Or sell my truck and get a bus pass. Or sell my bike and get dish network. Or get rid of my dogs and get a cat. Ya, I thought I might last week.

It was a little on the rough side. There were a few nights that turned into day, and a few days where I just wanted to pour clorox in my eyes and step in front of a bus. I thought right back to Marlin's advice: Don't get into woodworking, you won't make any money. And that is exactly why I'm here, is the money. I will be so rich someday. Wheelbarrows full.

It's fun again this week. I am convinced I do what I like. We got Leslie's cabinets done, the Peruvian turned out. The satisfaction is worth it. But I still keep the bottle of clorox close for justin.