I have imagined building shelf on shallow alcove of my dining room area. I've drawn dimensional diagrams and thought about how I'd see it standing and sitting. I've pondered the type of wood I would use and whether this shelf would just get full of clutter anyway.
At her cottage, my grandma-in-law has a bunch of lumber that her late husband bought when he had intended to put up some shelves near the dining area there. He became unable to do it, so the boards got shoved under beds.
Grandma wanted someplace to stack her cookbooks and Dick Francis mysteries. She wanted two simple shelves. It gave me great pleasure to hang them.
I used twelve screws and needed three tools. It took me about an hour. But I stayed for the whole weekend. It's a cottage on the lake.
The next day, I realized I'd need to add bookends, so I used a handsaw to cut four from a 2-by-8-inch slat and nailed them in place. After I left, Grandma stained them, and e-mailed to say how happy she was.
The point is, she has shelves, and I got something done, even if it isn't for my own house.
I have visions of many things: New paint for the living room, pegboard for the garage, a privacy fence panel. I have an old pie cabinet that I picked up in the trash two years ago, sitting in my garage, just waiting for a bit of finish.
These shelves aren't perfect. They're simple and functional, and they remind me that it's better to do something than think about getting it all done to perfection.
