I’ve had a chop saw and a router in my garage for about eight years. In that time I’ve built two raised garden beds, a set of shelves for the laundry room, and approximately forty linear feet of rough-cut baseboards for a bathroom remodel that got a little out of hand. I’ve always thought of myself as someone who does woodworking, despite having mostly avoided building anything with actual joints.
This spring I decided to build a garden bench. No back, just a seat and two solid end supports, something to put at the edge of the beds. Simple construction, allegedly. I looked at plans online and settled on a mortise-and-tenon design that looked achievable.
Here’s what happened.
The lumber sat in my garage for about six weeks before I touched it. This is normal for me; the planning phase is apparently where I put most of my effort. When I finally started cutting, I discovered that my workbench isn’t level, which meant the mortise layout was slightly off on the first end support before I realized what was happening. By then I’d already cut the tenons to match the mortises, so I had to decide: recut everything, or accept a bench with a slight lean.
The bench has a slight lean. You’d only notice if you put a torpedo level on it. I have put a torpedo level on it several times.
The seat is two pieces of Douglas fir edge-glued together. I’m in Portland, which means the wood is going to move whether I want it to or not. I should have accounted more carefully for expansion across the grain. The boards have cupped a bit — not enough to be uncomfortable, but enough that I know it’s there. I’ll run a hand plane over it next spring.
What I’d do differently: take more time on the layout. I was impatient in a way that ended up costing twice as much time on corrections. Measure twice, cut once is something I understand intellectually and apparently cannot execute emotionally.
What worked: the mortise-and-tenon joints themselves are solid. I cut them with a router and a chisel, neither of which I’d used much for joinery before. The fit is tight enough that I didn’t need the glue, though I used it anyway.
The finish is two coats of boiled linseed oil followed by exterior spar urethane. It rained on it two days after I put it outside. It’s been through three seasons now and looks fine. My wife has planted lavender around the legs, which has the effect of making the whole thing look intentional.
Total cost in materials: about $80. Time: one full Saturday plus most of a Sunday. I’m already thinking about building a matching side table, which suggests the whole process is going to start over.
Doug Alexander 