Woodworking, interrupted – FineWoodworking

Five years ago I had a story published here. It was about my late father and the tools he left me. When it came out, I was pushing 40, with a new son of my own and plans to turn my woodworking hobby into a career.

Things were bright. My wife, a doctor, worked full time while I was the primary parent at home. My only complaint, aside from a lack of sleep, was a nagging pain in my right leg. Not surprising, I reasoned. After all, I’d been sitting at home with a baby napping on my lap for hours on end. And I hadn’t been for a run in months. I was just getting stiffer with age. To address the issue, I tried physio, weight training, yoga, cross-fit. Nothing really worked, but I soldiered on. I did my woodworking at a maker space where I had a small studio. The room was barely big enough to park one of my first commissions—a dining table for eight in reclaimed fir—but I was on my way…