From Custom Carpentry to Green Woodworking: Why I Traded Power Tools for a Drawknife
If you had told me thirty years ago that my absolute favorite woodworking tools wouldn't even have power cords, I probably wouldn't have believed you.
For a large part of my life, my world was defined by the loud, fast-paced hum of power tools. Running "BF Custom Carpentry" down in Myrtle Beach meant hustle. During the peak summer seasons, it wasn't unusual for me to run a dozen service calls a day for vacation rentals, and the winters were filled with tearing out and remodeling kitchens and baths. I spent years working with concrete, steel, and wood framing. It was good, honest work, but it was noisy, stressful, and always a race against the clock.
But my roots were always a little quieter than that. I was born on a farm in Southern Maryland, and my wife Donna and I spent years running our own farm and roadside produce market. We eventually realized that the high-stress hustle of the condo repairs and vacation-rental world was reducing our quality of life. We needed a change of pace.
That desire for a better quality of life—and a return to something more grounded—is what ultimately led me to the traditional methods I use today for DryingTimes.
The Magic of the Shavehorse
Today, when I step into my workspace, I don't reach for a screaming router or a power sander. I sit down at my shavehorse.
Green woodworking is entirely different from the carpentry I did for decades. Instead of forcing kiln-dried lumber into rigid, square shapes as quickly as possible, green woodworking is a conversation with the wood. I work with the natural moisture still in the timber, using tools like a drawknife, spokeshave, and hook knife.
[Insert a short video clip or photo here of you working on the shavehorse]
There is an incredible peace in this process. Without the roar of a motor, you can actually hear the crisp sound of the drawknife slicing through the wood fibers. You learn to read the grain and work with it rather than battling against it.
Why the Slower Way is Sometimes the Better Way
When I hand-carve a spoon or shape the red cedar for a rustic ladder, I am deliberately choosing the slow route. It takes more time, more patience, and more physical connection to the material.
But the result is something that has a soul. A spoon shaped by a hook knife and a pocket knife has subtle tool marks—a signature of the human hands that made it. It isn't perfectly uniform like a factory-machined piece, and that is exactly the point. It’s an heirloom, crafted with intention, not just a product pushed down an assembly line.
After a lifetime of building things fast, I've finally found the joy in building things right.
If you appreciate traditional craftsmanship, I invite you to check out the hand-carved spoons, medieval-style boxes, and red cedar pieces currently available in the DryingTimes Shop.