Accidents
happen. A case of (literal) butterfingers could make you lose grip on
your recipe box and ding the edge of the kitchen table. A perfectly
respectable man can inadvertently drop one of the kitchen chairs
while moving it up to the bedroom. Maybe you came in from the garage
carrying a cinder block and needed to set it down quickly, not
realizing until you picked it up again that in doing so you laid it
on the end of the dog's leash, and now your wood floor has the
perfect impression of a snap swivel right in front of the coat
closet.
One
approach to such mishaps is to say “Thank you! My furniture (or
house) now has more patina!” Your wabi-sabi outlook on life might
lead you to take this attitude, and if so that's fine. I go that way
myself, quite often.
But
right now, I'm making a chair, and it hasn't even had a chance to be
a new chair yet, so I was dismayed to take the rear legs out of the
bending jig after I steam-bent them to see this:
How
did this happen? The bending jig is made of yellow pine, and its grain embossed itself onto the chair legs while they were
clamped into the jig. Soon you will see a post on “Appropriate
Bending Jig Materials” perhaps . . . meantime, I don't want to make
two new chair legs. What to do? Bondo? That's a lot of
work, and I didn't plan on painting this chair.
So I
borrowed a clothes iron, got a clean rag sopping wet, and pressed the
rag into the dent with the hot iron: