…I’d probably hurt more people than just myself.

I built a picnic table today.  That may not sound like much, but for someone who inherited my father’s carpentry skills, this is on par with building of the pyramids of Egypt.

All of them.

In one day.

And, I didn’t hurt myself.  I can’t guarantee alignment with the sun during the summer solstice – or a single straight cut – but people can sit on it in relative comfort without out fear of your seat falling out from under you – or your food falling through the table top – which was certainly the case with our old one, ‘Browny’:

It was a good design, though.  Really comfortable, with simple, classic lines.  So I copied it.

Four 2×4’s, five 2×6’s, two 2×8’s, a handful of nails (should have used decking screws in retrospect, but nails will do the trick), possibly the oldest, rickety-est, but definitely the least safe circular saw in operation (my Dad’s), and a couple of hours on a sunny day gets you this:

… and very little waste.  It’s standing up.  Considering the ultra-reliable measurement method I used called ‘Close Enough’, I’m pretty darned happy.  Well, no, I used a measuring tape, sqaure, and a pencil, but let’s just say it’s a good thing wood is so, ah… reasonable.  All the angles and frame measurements are the same as the old table, but it’s two feet longer, owing to the absence of six foot pressure treated lumber at Home Despot. 

The old table understood well what was happening and humbly disintegrated.  I helped with its suicide, like the honorable samurai I am, with a hammer.  Browny’s death was a good one.