WOODWORK

Last Saturday, once I'd got home from the building society and the supermarket, was pretty much given over to woodwork.

Not the pretty, craftsperson style of woodwork, with carving and fluting and elegant joins, but the type that involves bunging together some planks to make some shelves so that I can finally return some of the books that we removed a year ago in anticipation of the arrival of the builders back into the bedroom.

I've been putting off starting on this DIY project for ages, but finally (finally!) I was able to summon up enough of the necessary energy to make a start on it, move the salvaged planks downstairs to the few clear square feet of kitchen floor we have available, and begin cutting them to the required lengths with a handsaw, as per my swiftly jotted "design" which should all work out well if my calculations are correct...

After shifting all of those planks, I then had to wrestle the old "Black and Decker Workmate" from out of the back of the shed, where it had been cultivating mould and rust for several years, and causing an avalanche of all of the other junk that had since been placed in front of it.

Still, having won that bout, it was set up in the kitchen and the first of several trips were made up and down stairs acquiring the necessary tools, the other tools that I'd forgotten would be necessary, and the other tools that I suddenly remembered that I might actually need in order to set about such a project.

After all that, I was already pretty exhausted, I can tell you.

Still, fortified on sandwiches and cups of coffee, and with the commentary on a cricket game blaring out of the radio, I set about my measuring and cutting and found it all rather satisfying, although I was rather disappointed to discover at one crucial point that I must have thrown out my stock of 2x1 at some point in the past and that I therefore would not be able to complete my construction that day.

I also discovered that, perhaps as you might already have realised several years ago, I was a couple of planks short of a shelf unit, and that I'd have to call in at the timber merchants at some point later on in the week.

Still, all of the planks that I had were cut to the required length during the course of Saturday afternoon, and the outermost ones were screwed together to make two huge frames which are now standing purposelessly in the kitchen and waiting for phase two to begin (once I get hold of the 2x1 that I've managed to cadge from the Beloved's father) as we have continued to manoeuvre our way around them with cups of tea and various meals throughout the week.

Actually, they currently resemble those "raised bed" frames so beloved of the gardening set, so I'm pretty sure that any of our neighbours looking in through the window will have decided that's what we're up to, the poor deluded creatures.

Of course, if they are thinking that, they might also be thinking "I wouldn't have a lump of old tat like that in my house…!" which probably tells you all that you need to know about what I think of my woodworking skills.

Anyway, the little that I did achieve took most of the afternoon, and I really felt knackered after all that, which basically  seems to prove only one thing...

That I really must be getting far too old for doing that kind of thing...