Sometimes the value of a project isn’t what you can sell it for. It’s what you learn while bringing it back to life.
If you’ve been following The Sam and Herc Journey, you already know I’m still learning woodworking and furniture restoration.
I’m not a professional furniture maker. I’m not trying to pretend that I am.
I’m retired, I have a garage full of tools I’m learning how to use, plenty of ideas, and a German Shepherd named Hercules who believes every project requires his personal supervision.
This project started with five pieces that cost me exactly zero dollars.
Three metal swivel bar chairs and two wooden stools.
They weren’t anything special when I got them. They were used, worn, and needed some attention. But when I looked at them, I didn’t see something that needed to be thrown away.
I saw another opportunity to learn.
The Three Metal Chairs
The three metal chairs had good bones.
The frames were solid, so there was no reason they couldn’t have another life. The problem was everything else.
They needed cleaning and refinishing, the seats needed attention, and one of the swivel mechanisms wasn’t right.
I decided to give the metal frames a fresh black finish using Canyon Black, while keeping natural wood seats to give them some contrast.
That combination changed them completely.
The black frames became much cleaner and more modern, while the natural pine kept them from looking like ordinary black bar stools.
But, as usual, this project wasn’t as simple as painting something black and calling it finished.
One swivel gave me trouble.
At one point I experimented with a small shim just to understand what was causing the movement. The shim actually stabilized it, which helped me diagnose the problem, but I still ordered a replacement swivel so the chair could be repaired correctly.
That’s one of the things I’ve learned since I started doing this:
Sometimes a temporary fix isn’t the final repair. It’s a diagnostic tool that teaches you what the real problem is.
Then There Were the Wooden Stools
The other two stools were completely different.
Traditional wooden bar stools.
Instead of trying to make all five pieces identical, I decided to let the two styles remain different while tying everything together with the same basic color combination.
Black bases.
Natural wood tops.
After sanding, painting, touching up, sanding some more and applying additional coats, they started looking like they belonged together.
And I learned something else along the way.
When you look closely at something you’re building yourself, you see every little imperfection.
A tiny paint mark.
A brush line.
A spot you wish you had sanded one more time.
Something that probably nobody else would ever notice suddenly looks enormous because you know it’s there.
I’m beginning to understand that craftsmanship isn’t about pretending those things don’t exist.
It’s about noticing them—and getting a little better at preventing them on the next project.
What Did It Cost?
One reason I’m documenting these projects is that I want to understand the economics as well as the woodworking.
Here’s approximately what went into this one:
- Canyon Black paint — $23.00
- Black enamel — $5.58
- Dowel — $4.00
- Bolts/hardware — $4.00
- Pine rounds — $19.00
- Replacement swivel — $15.00
- Three metal chairs — Free
- Two wooden stools — Free
Total material investment: about $70.58.
Then there’s my labor.
I probably have somewhere around 20 hours invested in these five pieces.
If I were running a professional furniture restoration business and calculating an hourly labor rate, that number wouldn’t look very good.
But that’s not what I’m doing—at least not yet.
Right now, I’m learning.
Those 20 hours taught me about preparing metal, painting different materials, replacing hardware, working with wooden seats, repairing stool components, diagnosing a swivel problem and getting several pieces to look like a coordinated set.
The next time I do these things, it won’t take 20 hours.
And that’s where I think the real return on this project is.
Hercules, Quality Control Manager
Of course, no Sam and Herc project would be complete without Hercules.
While I painted outside, Herc found himself a comfortable position nearby and supervised.
He didn’t sand anything.
He didn’t paint anything.
He didn’t replace the swivel.
And I’m pretty sure he didn’t contribute to the $70.58 material bill.
But he was there.
And apparently that’s enough to qualify for management.
From Free to Finished
Looking at the finished pieces now, I’m proud of the transformation.
Not because they’re perfect.
They’re not.
I’m proud of them because I can look at different parts of these stools and remember something I didn’t know how to do before this project.
That’s really what The Sam and Herc Journey has become for me.
Take something.
Learn from it.
Make mistakes.
Figure out why.
Fix what you can.
Finish it.
Then move on to the next challenge a little more knowledgeable than you were before.
These five pieces are going up for sale.
And that’s important too.
I don’t want my house and garage becoming warehouses for every project I complete. Part of this experiment is learning whether I can take unwanted furniture, give it another life, sell it to someone who can use it, recover my investment—and hopefully make a little money along the way.
Then use the space and what I learned for the next project.
What’s Next?
There’s already a coffee table waiting for me.
And a bookcase.
And enough lumber in the garage and shed to keep Hercules supervising for quite some time.
I’m also realizing that before Houston’s cooler weather arrives, I need to get serious about organizing the garage and shed and turning all these tools I’ve accumulated into an actual functioning workshop.
There will always be another piece of furniture available.
There will always be another project.
The challenge for me now isn’t finding things to work on.
It’s learning to finish what I start, let it go, clear the space, and move forward.
These five stools are finished.
Now it’s time to find them a new home.
And then Sam and Herc move on to the next adventure.
— Sam & Herc