I’ll never forget the day years ago when Rob returned from a
short stroll through the neighborhood, triumphant as he held within his hands
what seemed to be a great discovery. Smiling, he handed me a flattened sterling
silver fork that must had made its way from a successful soirée the evening
before only to be beaten down by the guests driving right over it with no
regard to its selfless service. “What’s
this?” I asked. Rob’s response in
the words of his favorite philosopher the great Yogi Berra, “I saw a fork in
the road, so I took it.”
Dreams are a funny thing, you just never know how, when or where they are going to become a reality. Rob has been dreaming of building a live edge table for our modern home and I had become too wrapped up in the big picture of rotting windowsills and decaying cedar siding to see how we could make this happen but thankfully we came to a fork, well a curve in the road and took it.
We were just going to pick up some sausage on that warm December day as we began the hour long quest towards the unassuming Quick Stop on old highway 150 where Jake’s sausage was flavorfully waiting, worth every mile. The journey to Jake’s is filled with beautiful farms and fields and many a distillery so on this sunny day it was no surprise Rob wanted to take the back roads. Blinded by the rolling hillsides and winding roads we made our way around the next bend and there as if the heavens themselves had opened; the light shone through the clouds upon this winter worn farmyard where stacks and stacks, rows and rows of freshly cut logs of cherry, oak, box elder, poplar and walnut filled the field and overseeing it all, an angel in overalls named Gus. Without hesitation and without even considering the possibility of a no trespassing sign, Rob pulled right in and I recognized the look on his face, as I too have been known to share that expression when walking into the shoe department of Nordstrom on Michigan Avenue.
I never doubted Rob’s ability to build this table that had only existed in our minds, he is after all still a farm boy at heart. Spending the summers of his youth on his grandparents’ farm in northern Wisconsin not only taught him how to build things; that farm and the family on it helped build Rob.
Rob’s resourcefulness is something I began to understand with each visit to the farm. You learn to make do when miles away from the nearest small town and worlds away from the bubble of a suburb I grew up in, where trash was picked up weekly and the streetlights and the neighbor’s dinner bell let you know it was time to go home. Before composting was cool and climate change a daily fixture in our vocabulary, on the farm every scrap was saved for the cows or garden and anything that could be reused found new life well before the invention of recycling bins.
As a young couple Rob’s ability to construct furniture, lay tile, hang drywall, install lighting, or repair a roof allowed us to meet the challenges as first time homeowners well before the aid of the celebrities of HGTV. It was Bob Vila baby and it was our old house which I believe in the early 90s was referred to as a money pit, now the term is fixer upper. Thankfully our hard work was rewarded in the resale and we made our next move with two toddlers and our dreams in tow. As young parents, Rob took great joy in constructing the perfect playhouse for our boys and custom furniture for their rooms. If I could get my ideas to paper, Rob could make it happen. So what was I so afraid of when it came to his vision for this table? Pushing fear aside standing in the muddy timber yard that December day, I watched Gus, paint can in hand, spray a price on a grand old walnut log and I knew I had found the best Christmas present ever.
Having made his dream of this table well known amongst family and friends, Rob discovered a welder among us who was willing to bring Rob’s vision to life. Jason who spends most his days in search of the next best bourbon for his restaurant and bar Bourbons Bistro had been a welder in his day and just like Rob, loves a creative challenge. Within days of drawing the leg design, Jason returned with a classic rye to sip and steel legs to set the table on. Hours dedicated to the dream, Rob chipped away at the weathered bark and spent days sanding each piece until it was smooth and each grain rose forth as if part of a natural collaboration resulting in an amazing work of art.
My Wisconsin farm boy has slowly settled in as a somewhat southern gentleman, sipping Jason’s latest bourbon discovery while they discuss their next endeavor which most certainly will lead them back one sun-filled Kentucky Saturday over the hill just past the distillery, around a barn-filled bend to Gus and his field of walnut and maple dreams. Funny how so many old fashioned traditions have blended together to inspire and create this modern and magnificent live edge table for our unique home.
It’s interesting how crafting a modern piece can take you on a journey through one’s past and down that windy road where some of the best sausage in the country can be found. I’ll keep dreaming about the windows and siding as we sit around our new table. I’ll put the map down and go along for the ride. Just yesterday along another country road another fork and there I was in a rural sawmill standing next to neatly stacked pile of fragrant planks of cedar. I looked at Rob and I caught that look in his eye again, as we both shared the same thought, this cedar would work for siding...I am just not sure Rob learned the ancient Japanese method of shou sugi ban on the farm.