FLY YOUR DIY FLAG

Building projects in my first house was difficult at best. It just wasn’t possible to get a sheet of plywood down to my basement “workshop.” In that small space downstairs, cutting any board required skillful maneuvering— between the laundry area and the boiler. But I managed to knock together a lot of Adirondack chairs and window boxes working under the low-slung piping of the old boiler.

We’ve matured, my workshops and me. Three houses later, I have a dedicated space for projects. By “dedicated,” I mean sometimes I can access the workbench without even moving two bicycles and the lawn mower.

I’m your new Deputy Editor, and I’m thrilled and humbled to call

Family Handyman my home. I may

be the new guy in the office, but

I feel like I already know everyone here. My garage workshop holds tattered recent issues of this magazine as well as vintage tornout projects. I have a collection of pristine 1990s copies

too. And in my home and yard, you’ll find tables

and chairs and repairs, all inspired by stories Family Handyman editors have created.

Along with helping me learn to be a capable home

owner, this magazine has given me the confidence

to DIY—yeah, DIY is both a verb and a state of mind. Today I’m a DIY advocate in my neighborhood. It’s not

an official title, but when I open the shop garage door on a Saturday morning, I’m flying the DIY flag. It’s not really a flag, just repeated clouds of sawdust hovering

over the sound of an air compressor. You know.

Recently, I was ripping reclaimed lumber for a simple blanket ladder when my neighbor Amy came by, asked what I was doing and said, stepping over the sawdust,

“Oh, I love that smell.” She saw the flag flying.

From your garage or basement or dedicated shop,

keep flying your own DIY flag.

One more thing: I’m more like newly recycled to Family Handyman; I’ve been here before, even appeared in the pages of the magazine. I’ll save that story for the next issue.