A couple of months ago my brother-in-law asked me if I fancied building a wood store for their porch.
Obviously my answer was yes. Hell yes.
So I went walking around the local building sites to see what I could scavenge and piled my gym (their garage) up with scrap wood.
I don’t possess any wood working skills beyond the fact that my dad is a carpenter, which means I don’t possess any wood working skills. This wasn’t impressing the pallet wood much as I pulled apart the wonky and off square cuts.
After a couple of hours wrestling with a crow bar, I started cutting and screwing things together. I was whistling and giggling to myself like a mad-genius inventor, picturing the luxury three-tiered wood store with in-built pre-dried kindling dispenser that I was about to create.
A couple of hours later I stepped back and took in the beginnings of my ingenious design:
Ok so it was more tears than tiers, but it was standing, I giggled even louder to myself as I reached for more wood and more screws.
It was clear this wasn’t going to end out being the luxury wood-palace that I had envisioned, but I was feeling pretty smug about the whole project so I whistled my way back into the house to make myself a cup of tea before turning my attention to the aesthetic side of things:
I’d created Frankenstein’s wood store. luckily it was not alive, which meant it was unlikely to go on a rampage and get torched by angry villagers. But it was still pretty ugly so I did the DIY equivalent of covering up a spillage with newspaper, I painted it.
And just like that, I’d built a wood store.
It wasn’t even that ugly:
