I'd rather have just sold the damn books.

I find nothing more enjoyable than wood working. That’s a pretty general phrase isn’t it? That’s ok because I most forms of working with wood. Structural carpentry get’s my alpha male on, whittling and carving relaxes me, cabinetry and finish work makes me feel like an artist and simple shelf and furniture making gives me an accomplished sense of fusing function and form. The last mentioned is my truest love and like all true loves, sometimes you fight and sometimes you even need to have a good ol’ fashion knock-down and drag-out. I had such a heated event with a book shelf my wife asked me to make. She wanted a floor to ceiling shelf with deep recesses, filigreed base and crown molded top. Easy right? Well it wasn’t easy it left me with a gouged ceiling, a dirty and pissed cat and two hours of thoroughly cleaning my living room. Looking back on it I can the when, the how and the why of the disaster.
Piss-poor planning and over eagerness was my first down fall. I decided to head into work a few hours early figuring I’d have plenty of alone time in the shop to gather materials, layout the pieces, cut, and assemble the shelf. I was right, I did have plenty of time, I had the hole 7’63/4” book shelf done before any of the other workers showed up. That height is the exact height of my living room. Some may not see the flaw in this so I’ll break it down. A book shelf designed to fit floor to ceiling will be significantly taller when you try to stand it up, kind of like when you stand on your tip-toes. I didn’t realize this flaw until I got home that evening.
The next factor in my personal hobby holocaust was realizing my error and having ample opportunity to take a few steps back but deciding, “What the heck, give her a go!”. I drove home with the new shelf for Chickey, I was just as happy and proud as could be. I backed up to the porch, got a runner rug from my shop and used it to drag the shelf into the house (This shelf was quite heavy, I’m guessing approx. 150#). As I was standing there ready to heave this thing up into position I realized that I’d messed up and on the up angle my shelf would be longer than allowable. I ran through the possible fixes and wasn’t enthused about any of them so stubborn, foolish me decides to try anyway. I got my fingers under it and breathed preparing for the big heave I’d need to stand this monster up. I heaved with all my might and ‘CRUNCH!’ I had lodge the back corner of the shelf up into the ceiling and there is hung at an angle crammed between floor and ceiling. “Sonnuva!”
What else could possibly go wrong? I’ll tell you what else. My stubbornness knows no limits, and at that point I should have popped the bookshelf out of my ceiling and dragged it out to my shop to modify it. No, no, instead I ran to my shop and grabbed my circular saw with the finish blade, went back into the house. I laid the shelf back down and set my saw up. There were several reasons not to do that but none penetrated my tired, angry, simple brain. So, I did it, I cut three inches of each leg. That is when my true love brought me to rock bottom.
We now have a beautiful floor to ceiling book shelf in our living room with a slightly modified base but I’m not entirely sure it was worth it. The minute I touched that saw off, Merlin, our cat came to from his nap on the couch. At the same exact time he and everything withing eight feet of him got blasted with a plume of sawdust. He tore off through the house leaving a trail of dust, my couch along with the pillows, drapes, carpet and coffee table where covered. I got the shelf in place, mudded the ceiling, vacuumed the room (and the cat) all before Chickey came home. She fell in love the minute she saw the shelf and was none the wiser to the hell it took to get it there.