And it was all going so well
From time to time, I find myself struck by an insatiable urge to build. To construct something, generally of wood, with my own two hands. Most recently, this urge has found an outlet in a particular fact surrounding the rather extensive renovations Meagan and I are undertaking at the moment. You see, with the exodus of much of my family from the old homestead, some additional space has recently become available, and we're currently working to transform one room into a sleeping space and another into a gathering area, more suitable for entertaining friends in. Until now, that spatial role has been filled by my bedroom, replete with television and computer but lacking somewhat in seating space, so much of the time people ended up sitting on the edge of my bed. Which was fine, it was a large and moderately comfortable bed, but it's obviously moving out. And thus, we come to thet opportunity.
If I'm going to entertain, after all, I'll need seating for my guests. Unfortunately, I'm rather between funds at the moment, what with one thing and another, and our attempt to scavenge a road-side couch ultimately left us with nothing but a rather amusing anecdote. So of course, the most reasonable thing to do is to build a couch, as I'm sure you'll all agree, yes?
I did it entirely out of found and scavenged wood. Most of it actually came from a single shipment at Fabricland; a while back replacement pattern cabinets were delivered, each of which had nice, big, sturdy two by four sections across their bottoms to provide stability and support. The rest came from skids I found and disassembled, and old pieces of display hardware discarded on the third floor, unwanted and entirely up for grabs. With the aid of just a metrestick, a hand-saw, a hammer and a screwdriver, and of course nails and screws, I slowly and carefully set about assembling from these odds and ends a couch. But not just any couch, no. This was to be my crowning glory, a piece of furniture constructed entirely by myself, built by my hands and to my specifications. Unfortunately, that last part is where it went slightly wrong.
I built it in four seperate components, you see, so that I could get it out of Fabricland and up the stairs to my room without any particular hassle. There was a seat, two legs and a back, attached to a central third leg, all of which would fit neatly together to form the completed structure. There were also a pair of cushions, single long pieces meant to fit over the seat and against the back. It all seemed to be going so well, until I got it home last Sunday and began putting it together. That was when I discovered two small, but serious, problems. The first was that I had somehow mismeasured the cushions, and rather seriously, too; they're both well over thirty centimetres too long to fit onto the couch. That's easily enough rectified, however. It's the second problem that's going to cause me rather a lot more trouble. You see, when I designed it, I built it so the seat was at a certain height, just the right height for comfort. Unfortunately, I set the wooden seat at just the right height. This means that once the cushion is laid down, it's no longer the right height at all. And this, in turn, means I need to take a good ten centimetres of all three couch legs. With, once more, nothing but a handsaw.
Sigh. And it really was all going so well...
If I'm going to entertain, after all, I'll need seating for my guests. Unfortunately, I'm rather between funds at the moment, what with one thing and another, and our attempt to scavenge a road-side couch ultimately left us with nothing but a rather amusing anecdote. So of course, the most reasonable thing to do is to build a couch, as I'm sure you'll all agree, yes?
I did it entirely out of found and scavenged wood. Most of it actually came from a single shipment at Fabricland; a while back replacement pattern cabinets were delivered, each of which had nice, big, sturdy two by four sections across their bottoms to provide stability and support. The rest came from skids I found and disassembled, and old pieces of display hardware discarded on the third floor, unwanted and entirely up for grabs. With the aid of just a metrestick, a hand-saw, a hammer and a screwdriver, and of course nails and screws, I slowly and carefully set about assembling from these odds and ends a couch. But not just any couch, no. This was to be my crowning glory, a piece of furniture constructed entirely by myself, built by my hands and to my specifications. Unfortunately, that last part is where it went slightly wrong.
I built it in four seperate components, you see, so that I could get it out of Fabricland and up the stairs to my room without any particular hassle. There was a seat, two legs and a back, attached to a central third leg, all of which would fit neatly together to form the completed structure. There were also a pair of cushions, single long pieces meant to fit over the seat and against the back. It all seemed to be going so well, until I got it home last Sunday and began putting it together. That was when I discovered two small, but serious, problems. The first was that I had somehow mismeasured the cushions, and rather seriously, too; they're both well over thirty centimetres too long to fit onto the couch. That's easily enough rectified, however. It's the second problem that's going to cause me rather a lot more trouble. You see, when I designed it, I built it so the seat was at a certain height, just the right height for comfort. Unfortunately, I set the wooden seat at just the right height. This means that once the cushion is laid down, it's no longer the right height at all. And this, in turn, means I need to take a good ten centimetres of all three couch legs. With, once more, nothing but a handsaw.
Sigh. And it really was all going so well...