Meb and Tom and Wood
Tom and I live in the middle of probably 1000 acres of woodland. In every direction, the forest encroaches on all aspects of our lives. Trees provide our raw building materials. They heat our tiny cabin. They give us exercise as we clear and open up space for our homestead. The leaves make shade in the summer and filter our air, keeping wind-born plant diseases from our gardens and lessening the greenhouse effect. The nuts and acorns provide food for wildlife, hopefully keeping them out of our gardens.
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Because we live in a forest, with all tree branches shooting straight up to compete for sunlight, we have no good climbing trees—a huge disappointment to me. My girlhood was spent high in the tops of yard and field trees with wide-spreading branches suitable for tree forts and climbing races to the top. Our forest, unfortunately, is mostly oak, unsuitable for our work because of its open grain which could trap food and germs. It’s perfect for timber framing, though, and locally, is second only to hickory as a firewood.
For our work, then, we mainly use Cherry, Black Walnut, Birch and Maple--all top grade New England hardwoods. Two reasons: As artists, we love the range of colors and distinctive grain patterns of our local woods, and as organic-types, we’re pleased that our raw materials have asmall carbon footprint.
Most of our lumber is from Northern Vermont, the source for local hardwood yards. We enjoy going directly to the source--climbing 50-foot-high stacks of lumber, sorting through rough stock to find the finest-figured grains. Our lumberman, fifth generation in the family business, knows how to cut, dry and stack wood for the best results and dramatic figure. And best of all, he purchases only “quality timber from reputable foresters with clients enrolled in Vermont’s Land Use Program requiring sustainable harvest methods.”
We combine the 5-hour trip with a visit to Tom’s brother’s place in the Adirondacks and some of our lumber (especially the live edge and waterdrop maple) comes from his acreage.
Occasionally we use local woods. That’s a lot of work, though: lifting and trucking the trees (they’re heavy and big, therefore expensive to move) to a neighbor’s mill. After it’s milled, we coat the ends with wax or oil paint to prevent “checking” (cracking), then “sticker” it (place strips of wood between the lumber to enable air flow for drying). And then we wait—a year per inch--for it to dry.
Using our own Mountain Laurel is our latest fun. Watch for the results!
We get calls from folks who’ve taken down a tree and would like pieces made from it. This is a lovely sentiment, but unless the wood has been properly cut and dried, this can be a disappointing, time-consuming and expensive process with very little actual work resulting. If you call us before the tree is down, we might be able to talk you through it.
Wood processing is a long, complicated process and takes a huge amount of space. It’s a profession unto itself. That’s why we go to Vermont. We’d rather MAKE things.
Over our years of dealing with trees in various ways, we’ve learned a thing or two about wood. It’s an awesome natural resource, one that treads a tender line between extinction (from manmade and natural sources) and renewability. Even considering this, we still prefer to use wood over plastic in most situations.
My dream is that others will--after seeing our work and hearing our attitudes—think of trees, forests, furniture, gymnasium floors and old barns with added appreciation and gratitude, and add them to their lists of Favorite Things Worth Preserving. |