Somehow I managed to delte my first post on this blog. Don't know how I did it, but I am sure it was me. Probably just as well. I neede the practice to get my writing legs, without anyone else seeing it. 

Woodworking to me is not just a hobby, but a form of escape. Between work, wife, home, school, aging mother, and life in general, there isn't a lot of time for actual projects, but I do squeeze a few in, and I intend to document some of them here as time permits. But there is more to it than just building things. Don't get me wrong. I cherish just about everything about woodworking: the process of choosing, designing, and planning a project; choosing and preparing the materials and hardware; the feel and aroma of fresh cut wood; and the satisfaction of completing a project that I conceptualized and built from start to finish. But woodworking for me is also a place. No matter which shop I had, even before I had a real shop, I could go to where I performed the rituals of this hobby, and it seemed like the only place I could call my own. The house, first at my mothers home, later in my own home, is the domain of the woman, where I am at best sharing some space, but she, whether mother or wife, is really in charge (the old saying "If Momma ain't happy, ain't nobody happy" is so relavant). I may have a little space for my books, my clothes, to watch tv, or to sleep, but I know it is not mine to do with as I please. My wife has her kitchen, the bedroom, her bath, etc., and is solely in charge of furnishings and decoration, and sees that I keep my areas neat ad help with other areas (she still does the lions share of the housekeeping, as most women do), but the housee is for all purposes totally hers. But my shop! Now there I actually am king, or at least allowed autonomy. I can go there, and no one else makes decisions about furnishings (tools and benches), arrangement, or pace of work. It is my space. When I am there, politicians don't bother me, work is far away, and daily concerns are on the back burner fo awhile. I have a radio, cd player, and a computer (no internet, but drafting software, work processor, music managment software, and picture viewing and editing). The cell phone is with me for when wife or other family may need me, but mostly it is pure solitude. Let that 2 year old golden retriever in, though, and it gets quite active. But that's ok, she is a good shop dog, and I enjoy her presence.

In the pictures above you can see a little of my shop. The top picture is the view from the entrance, looking west up the valley into Blue Ridge Gap. The next is a view from the south side, where the house is, with the shop dog. The third picture was taken this morning about 8:30, just after a fresh snow. Andthe last is the interior of the shop, from the front door looking in. Its kind of messy, and I hope to post some photos later on of shop furniture and projects, future and past, when it is a little cleaner and neater. 

My little shop is quite humble, not much to look at, as you can see from the posted pictures. The tools and equipment inside and out are not the most expensive nor very new. But for the pleasure they give me, they are worth a fortune. My wife and family are everything to me, of course, but there isn't much  else that I would trade for my fortress of solitude.