Comic for the group

[aemeijers]

Saw this go by as I was taking my daily reality antidote on the comics websites, and thought y'all would enjoy it.

[cshenk]

"aemeijers" wrote

LOL! Thats me telling Don to not toss stuff.

[willshak]

aemeijers wrote the following:

After you toss a piece of lumber, a need will arise that the now gone piece would be perfect. If you are lucky, the need will occur soon after you toss the piece and you will remember that you tossed it. If you are unlucky, the need will occur long after you tossed it, and forgetting that you tossed it, you'll spend hours looking for it.

[Robert Green]

>

Excellent summary. I would add one more:

And if you are really unlucky after a long, painful search you WILL find that piece of wood but it turns out to be not even REMOTELY what you needed - you just thought it would fit until you actually place it over the hole you're trying to patch at it falls right through.

I thought, from the subject line, we were about to elect the first official AHR group comedian. )-:

But it has given me an idea . . .

-- Bobby G.

[Joe]

So true. Seems to apply to almost all of us.

Joe

[rlz]

It's funny because my wife was just commenting last weekend about all of my scrap lumber in my shop. I may have to take some scrap lumber and build a frame and mount this comic in it and hang it in the shop. It is so true for me. See, there is a purpose for all of the scraps. Robin

[aemeijers]

My sister and BIL have become pals with the artisan cabinetmaker that built their custom kitchen cabinets. My BIL picked up somewhere along the way, a wood-fired wooden hot tub, one of the old cooperage style ones. This cabinetmaker pal lets my BIL dump the small-trimmings barrel from his machine shop in his pickup every month, and bring it home to feed the hot tub. I about cried when I saw it- beautiful little chunks of various local hardwoods, planed flat or cut square on all sides, but none big enough to use for a project, and too randomly sized to lay up into a butcher block without outlandish labor and access to the machines that made them. All of a sudden I was three years old again- it was all I could to avoid pouring the barrel out in the driveway and start stacking them up into castles. I've never had the money, eyesight, coordination, or patience, to get into fine woodworking, but that pile of scraps spoke to me. Too bad they are so far away that I have to fly to visit- I'd love to bring back a load to play with, and maybe make small knicknacks out of.