As I was writing this, I looked for photos of my dad woodworking. I couldn’t find any. That was frustrating at first, but then I realized that it just underlines the story I’m about to tell. However I would like you to meet him, so here’s a recent photo of him eating breakfast.
Ruby (right) has her own chair at the breakfast table.
My dad didn’t really teach me woodworking. He taught me something even better. Without ever putting it into words.
He’s been making things out of wood as long as I can remember. However, he never considered himself a woodworker. He makes things when he needs them, using tools and materials available. This usually means scrap construction lumber or some wonky log hauled out from the woods. His workbench is small and wobbly and tools are scarce and simple.
There’s no “statement” here.
No concept or a “minimalist woodworker project” behind it. On the contrary, his generation carries an unworded and inherited mentality toward making things instead of buying them. This mindset stems from previous generations – back to the days when woodworking wasn’t a pastime, but a necessary skill of survival.
I’m writing this because I’m afraid his generation might be the last one to naturally and effortlessly affiliate with this tradition. My generation barely knows how to sharpen a pencil. Let alone make or repair things out of wood.
My dad never talked much about woodworking. It was something he just did. And just like a Zen Koan, he taught me everything without teaching me anything. And so I’m writing this as a tribute to the uncomplicated, anti-fancy, somewhat crude, but honest woodworking that has always been there. Long before the hashtags and the woodworking blogs. Here’s a selection of things he’s made. I think they’re great. They keep me grounded and humble and help me keep my own woodworking clean and simple.
The car he made for me when I was three, in 1979. Construction lumber, bike parts and random thingamabobs.
Having spent all his money on our house, there was no leftover money to buy a table. But there was leftover construction lumber.
Spaghetti-sticks™. For stirring pasta. Whittled from juniper.
Birch salad tongs. I grew up with these.
Hallway bench made from pine construction lumber. The seat is from a house wall, where the lumber was already joined like this.
Birch coffee cup.
A model of his dad’s fishing boat (painting in the back). Done with one gouge, one chisel and a saw. From a birch log.
Maple fruit tray. He did this with the one hollow gouge he owns. And sandpaper. He loves sandpaper.
Birch cutting board and miscellaneous kitchen utensils.
And here’s my dad again reminding me that the table also doubles down as a carrying tray.
Your Dad would surely have enjoyed reading The Minimalist Woodworker, by Vic Tesolin. It is a really good introduction to woodworking, even in a small space with only a few tools. We’ve reviewed it in the latest issue of Quercus.
Not so sure about that. He ain’t really into woodworking.
Oh well. He sounds like a good guy. My Dad made things like your father’s fishing boat.
Cool!
“Not so sure about that. He ain’t really into woodworking.”
Of course. And he probably especially isn’t into reading about woodworking, in the same way that I’m not into reading about how to teach chemistry. I just do it.
Don’t understand why that book gets hyped so much. It’s not really minimalist in that the descriptions involve a lot of non-basic tools (such as router and moulding planes). When I bought it as a beginner hand tool woodworker, I was frustrated because I only owned the tools on the cover, but not the tools used in the book. The descriptions were harder to understand than most other sources I consulted at that time. The projects are neat, but the title seems misleading to me. So yeah, I doubt that an old-timey, no-frills incidental woodworker making do without a basement full of tools would get much out of that book.
I’d like to meet your dad. He reminds me of my dad and you are right about that generation. You and I are better people because of them.
There’s definitely some things that we should pass on!
While teaching some hand-woodworking skills to 5th graders at a local Waldorf school the very first project was sharpen a pencil with knife. Overheard “My point is sharper than your’s”
Lovely work with words about my brother and about woodworking.
Get it done and dont be cute about it is what I gather from this. The aesthetes have even managed to coopt the rough stuff by calling it “bushcraft” or “bush carpentry.” Your dad is a skilled person and I dig the stuff he has made. Thanks for sharing.
I can relate, my father was born in 1939. As I look back on our relationship growing up, he taught me things by doing them. Building this or fixing that. All with very little instruction if any. I believe it’s not because he didn’t care or want to give proper lessons. But out of a need to get it done for there is always more work to do.
It is like get it done and dont be cute about it. I dig your dads work. Things that he and you can be proud of. The aesthetes have managed to coopt the rougher yet ingenuitive side by calling it “bush craft” or “bush carpentry.” Branding creates a lot of anxiety around the things we build. It is easy to fall into the trap of making stuff for the eyes that will see it online or how they will see me making it instead of the joy of doing it. This reminds me to loosen and lighten up. Thanks for sharing!
Exactly! Very well put! And to be honest, I’ve also rolled eyes at the “bushcraft movement”, which is basically just a fancy word for what I’ve done with my parents all my life – hiking, whittling, cooking in nature, et cetera…! Thanks for your comment!
Thank you for sharing. Your dad and his approach to woodworking remind me a lot of my grandfather (born 1900), great uncle (born 1906) and dad (born 1938). I miss them all greatly.
Thank you, Joe. It means a lot to me that my thoughts resonates with others like yourself.
The lesson your dad taught you without words – if you need something make it – has been lost for most people. The joy of creating; the pride of self-sufficiency; the growing skills that facilitate the next endeavor – all are priceless and not available though Paypal, Venmo, or Ebay. You are a lucky man to have such a father and a wise man to appreciate what he gave you. Thanks for sharing.
Ron, thanks so much for your thoughtful and kind comment. It’s unfortunately true that it’s about to be lost. At least some of it. However, there are still people in my generation who are aware and interested to learn from past generations and to keep traditions and knowledge alive. Thanks for your comment, appreciate it!
Sounds similar to my dad. He grew up during the depression ( yes I am aging myself), and never considered himself a carpenter or woodworker. He built 3 houses that we lived in. But he was a teacher. He built them mainly by himself, not because he was a carpenter but he said he couldn’t afford to buy one already built. And he built all of the furniture because he couldn’t afford to buy furniture. When he passed, I wanted to take some of his tools to use. Which is when I realized he didn’t really have many. A 60 year old Porter cable circular saw and some speed squares and a generic hammer and a couple of rusted old handsaws. His toolbox made “minimalist kits” look like a hardware store.
Wow it’s super cool!
Steve, thank you. I’m so glad you can relate. There’s just something humbling and beautiful to the story of a man building three houses and all his furniture because that’s what he had to do. It raises my neck hairs. And his tool kit sounds just like my dad’s. Thanks SO much for sharing!
You just described my dad. Great post, thank you.
Awww, thanks, Pascal!!
Du får hilse far din fra meg og si at de gamle fortsatt er eldst 🙂
Gjort! Han hilser tilbake!
I could write something similar about my grandfather, and I am of your father’s generation. Some concepts are eternal.
Nice piece.
Exactly! Or, should I say, that’s what I hope for! Thanks so much, Ken!
I love the article. My dad could not build really anything but he taught me a really good work ethic. Now, my Granddad could build anything with anything. He taught me some woodworking, fence building, metal working including welding along with knife making. My Granddad is one of those that was raised to fix or build anything. Nice article and thanks for reminding me of someone special from my past.
Sounds like you picked up a lot from your granddad! I Even though we’re (mine at least) the generation that’s just picking up the pieces, I hope that at least some of us will be able to pass it on to our children. As Cynthia said below here, it’s not even all about making stuff – it’s about being open, listening, learning and being aware. Thanks so much for your comment!
Good article! I think the “figure it out and do it” mindset of previous generations is definitely something to preserve for our kids’ sakes. It isn’t that every person must learn to work wood, metal, thread, fabric, and what ever else you can think of (tho I think some familiarity is ideal), it’s that there is value in learning to think about the world, learning how TO think thru the what and the why and the how of your surroundings, developing the habit of finding solutions rather than just pulling readymade answers “off the shelf.” Like dis-interested compassion and complex language, it’s one of the good parts of what makes humans, human!
Hi, Cynthia! Very valid point and well put! I totally agree! Thanks for your comment!
Reminds me of both of my grandfathers…both born in 1912.
One never had much money. Not only could he build what he needed, he could find discarded furniture and repair/adapt it. I grew up with holiday dinners around a Queen Anne table with a homemade tabletop.
My other grandfather was a farmer, and I spent a lot of time as a kid following him around, watching him make and repair whatever he needed. When he retired, he ended up in Alaska, and I spent time up there as a teenager. Everything in his town had to be shipped or flown in, so anything bought’n was EXPENSIVE. We made or repaired most everything we used.
I can’t make “everything” for various reasons, but most of the stuff for my grandkids has been homemade so far, so hopefully they’ll grow up enjoying the value of homemade stuff.
That’s a great story, David. Thank you for sharing. It captures what I’m trying to say here.
This was a wonderful post, Klaus S. Thank you for sharing your father’s work- it’s inspiring on a number of levels. Also, I miss visiting the Nordic countries..
Thank you so much!