A woodshop can teach more about hope than a self-help book. We open with a simple story about a friend who scours lumber yards for warped offcuts and busted pallets, then turns them into game cabinets, shelves, and gifts that surprise everyone who sees them. The trick isn’t magic tools; it’s trained eyes, patient hands, and a habit of planing past the ugly top layer until the clean grain shows through. That moment in the shop becomes a living parable for anyone who feels like the discard pile...
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A woodshop can teach more about hope than a self-help book. We open with a simple story about a friend who scours lumber yards for warped offcuts and busted pallets, then turns them into game cabinets, shelves, and gifts that surprise everyone who sees them. The trick isn’t magic tools; it’s trained eyes, patient hands, and a habit of planing past the ugly top layer until the clean grain shows through. That moment in the shop becomes a living parable for anyone who feels like the discard pile...
The day after Christmas can feel like a crash—quiet rooms, half-taken-down decorations, and leftovers that won’t quit. We lean into that moment and explore why the emotional dip is so common, then chart a saner way forward that doesn’t depend on noise, sales, or the perfect holiday script. Along the way, we revisit the surprising roots of Boxing Day, contrast tradition with today’s shopping frenzy, and unpack how a simple song lyric can name our mood and gently point us toward something sturd...
Starting Right
A woodshop can teach more about hope than a self-help book. We open with a simple story about a friend who scours lumber yards for warped offcuts and busted pallets, then turns them into game cabinets, shelves, and gifts that surprise everyone who sees them. The trick isn’t magic tools; it’s trained eyes, patient hands, and a habit of planing past the ugly top layer until the clean grain shows through. That moment in the shop becomes a living parable for anyone who feels like the discard pile...
