From the Vault: Carving

By Eilene Lyon

Back in the mid-90s, a friend coerced talked me into joining her in taking an evening woodworking class at the new Bayfield High School. The school had a large, well-equipped shop and an excellent instructor. I enjoyed it so much I attended for about five years, until the instructor retired.

After building a nightstand from oak and a hutch from willow, I decided to tackle a major project. We constructed all our furniture from lumber and learned to make dado and dove-tail joints to put it together.

My big project: a four-poster queen bed with six drawers, a carved headboard, and lathe-turned footrail. The bed would be made entirely from scratch in mahogany. For this, I had to purchase my own set of carving tools.

I created a jungle scene for the headboard. Bob, the teacher, teased me about killing tropical trees to carve the tropics in them. I didn’t let it stop me. The headboard carving took me a couple years, then another year to build the rest of the bed. (We only did classes during one school term each year.)

The dark stain doesn’t photograph well, so I will describe it. A large snake begins near the top left and winds through the entire piece with the head, tongue extended, at the lower right. Left to right: bamboo shoots, a large butterfly, a philodendron, a leafy ground plant, a liana with a parrot perched on it, and a banana palm.

Carving tools, by the way, are extremely sharp. That never caused me any trouble until one evening. A Bayfield student, who was carving a dining-table top, visited our adult class to see my project. He asked, “Have you ever cut yourself with one of the tools?”

“No, never.”

Within the hour, I swear, I had pulled a bonehead move and managed to jab a tool into my right calf. Like slicing warm butter. We patched the deep cleft with a butterfly bandage. The scar has faded over the years, but is still visible.

It was a small price to pay for what I consider to be my finest handiwork. I intended it to be my lifetime bed. But I married a few years later and it didn’t fit the master bedroom. So now it serves as our spare bed. It was only a problem for one guest who was terrified of snakes, even a wooden one. She covered the headboard with a blanket in order to get some sleep!