About 20 years ago, having  moved into a new house I set about making the attached outbuilding into a more useful workshop. In truth, it had been the previous owners workshop, but the rotter¹ had taken away all his very nice woodworking kit, and I had to start over again. 

Funds were a little low, but I found some 4×2 studding and a cheap softwood tabletop and knocked up a suitable  bench to start with.  Later I added a couple of small vices and used an old bedroom chest of drawers for tool storage . Nothing fancy, but it served.

I miss-treated it comprehensively it for the next 20 years, for home brewing, bicycle repair, making stuff I needed, wood and metal working, etc etc. You know, the sort of things a man does.  I used the corner for stamping out sanding discs until I realised the damage is it caused, and tested out chisel sharpening on the edge when in a hurry. I spilt oil and paint on it with gay abandon. So after all that time it was a mess.

But I took some satisfaction in knowing that every single ding, dent, scratch, stain, splash and mark had been made by me.  Nobody else but me.  It had character – I’d even dare to call it art.

But the whole place had become a mess. As a creative type I thrive on clutter, firmly believing that an empty desk demonstrates an empty mind.  There is ALWAYS a more interesting and productive thing to do than tidying up, and who GAF anyway, since it’s MY mess.

BUT, the other evening a friend popped round and, in hindsight, it was a little embarrassing the state of the place.  So spare time this w/e was devoted to a serious clear up, after which it all simply looks very untidy. I cleared all the clutter off the bench, got out my orbital sander and attempted to remove all the crud.  I even added a coat of  the first finish that came to hand – danish oil.

So now it’s all nice, and good to go for another year or two anyway.  I feel good! (Except Liverpool have just lost in the FA cup, so not so good after all). Never mind, it’s only a game.

1. Not a rotter at all really. You’d have to go a long way to meet a nicer bloke. ↩︎