The morning of project day. Hot diggity! The weather was cooperating with the skies a semi-shade of blue. Winter sucks. (To my northern brethren: That's why I live in the south.) I like snow. Many fond memories of building snow forts and snowball wars with my friends I will treasure forever. Skiing. Oh, fantastic times. Hate freezing my toes off. You can keep your frostbite, thank you very much. This doesn't mean I WANT to be where it's cold for half the year. My plans for retirement include the equator, not the Arctic circle.
Last night I got some pieces of wood and stuff that I thought would help me construct my mead rack. After looking at several designs I went with building something that fit my needs and wants. What I ended up with however...
I don't want this.
I'm going to cut it in half. Some of the bracket pieces I made split. Belatedly I remembered to pre-drill the holes.
No plan survives contact with the enemy. To wit: I'm looking at a drill bit that seems a bit dull. It's a wide bore bit that would put a hole 5/8th wide for a dowel to go through. What's odd however is the drill bit is entirely capable of puncturing a hole on my table or saw horse, but can't punch through a damn crossbar!
Having had enough, I did the male thing. I muscled and pushed my way through. Wood be damned! The dowel won't fit. Dammit! The difference between 1/2 and 5/8.
So I've exhausted my weekend supply if beer trying to put this half-assed monstrosity together.
So I'll need to go back to the store for sandpaper and a new drill bit. Of course as I was putting this thing together I was thinking: that table saw you sold at the last garage sale would come in handy right now. My jigsaw was making more problems than solving them.
Another item that may or may not be relevant. One of my dry mead bottles popped it's cork while everyone was out working yesterday. Upon coming home I noticed the half-empty bottle and the small puddle under the crate.
That's what I call it. I bought a small wine rack. that holds nine bottles. I strongly resembles a milk crate, hence the name.
Sunday update: I took apart the whole thing and I'm starting over. It looked too much like a ladder, would take up a bunch of space and not serve the function I want. I also dropped my drill and broke it. The drill was over twelve years old, so I got some use out of it.
All of my power tools are corded. No battery powered items in my garage. In the past I've been tempted to get a lithium powered drill, but thus far I've resisted the urge.
My wife reminded me that I originally wanted it triangular shaped so it would fit in the corner and not take up space. That's what she does. Reminds me to stay on track. She corrects my course of direction from time to time. A smart man can and does change his mind according to circumstances. My wife is my friend and guide. She is also my conscience. It's a good thing to listen and take advice from her.
Last night I got some pieces of wood and stuff that I thought would help me construct my mead rack. After looking at several designs I went with building something that fit my needs and wants. What I ended up with however...
I don't want this.
 |
| who wants a wine rack that tall? |
No plan survives contact with the enemy. To wit: I'm looking at a drill bit that seems a bit dull. It's a wide bore bit that would put a hole 5/8th wide for a dowel to go through. What's odd however is the drill bit is entirely capable of puncturing a hole on my table or saw horse, but can't punch through a damn crossbar!
Having had enough, I did the male thing. I muscled and pushed my way through. Wood be damned! The dowel won't fit. Dammit! The difference between 1/2 and 5/8.
So I've exhausted my weekend supply if beer trying to put this half-assed monstrosity together.
So I'll need to go back to the store for sandpaper and a new drill bit. Of course as I was putting this thing together I was thinking: that table saw you sold at the last garage sale would come in handy right now. My jigsaw was making more problems than solving them.
Another item that may or may not be relevant. One of my dry mead bottles popped it's cork while everyone was out working yesterday. Upon coming home I noticed the half-empty bottle and the small puddle under the crate.
That's what I call it. I bought a small wine rack. that holds nine bottles. I strongly resembles a milk crate, hence the name.
 |
| One of these things is not like the others, One of these things just doesn't belong. |
Sunday update: I took apart the whole thing and I'm starting over. It looked too much like a ladder, would take up a bunch of space and not serve the function I want. I also dropped my drill and broke it. The drill was over twelve years old, so I got some use out of it.
All of my power tools are corded. No battery powered items in my garage. In the past I've been tempted to get a lithium powered drill, but thus far I've resisted the urge.
My wife reminded me that I originally wanted it triangular shaped so it would fit in the corner and not take up space. That's what she does. Reminds me to stay on track. She corrects my course of direction from time to time. A smart man can and does change his mind according to circumstances. My wife is my friend and guide. She is also my conscience. It's a good thing to listen and take advice from her.
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