The Dado Debacle
Being a new woodworker, I’ve come to a realization—one that probably should have hit me before I ever picked up a chisel. Mistakes happen. And not just the “oops, I dropped my pencil” kind. I mean the “well, that’s a new hole in the workbench” variety.
If you’ve read any of my other posts, you know I’m a planner. I like things mapped out, measured twice, cut once (or so I thought). Change and I are not friends. My wife calls it a “quirk.” I call it “being prepared.” She calls me a big baby. I call her “technically correct,” which, as we all know, is the best kind of correct.
So, there I was, knee-deep in my first real project—a whiskey cabinet. The kind of project that makes you feel like you could build a house if you had enough plywood and coffee. The dovetails were cut (and, dare I say, adorable), everything was dry-fitted, and the back panel was looking glorious. I was riding high on a wave of sawdust and confidence.
Then came the dado cuts for the back panel. This is where the story takes a turn. If you’re a woodworker, you probably saw this coming. If you’re my wife, you definitely did.
I fired up the router, ready to make those dadoes like a pro. Several passes later, I stood back and admired my work. And then I did the math. Or rather, I realized I hadn’t done the math. The dado was too wide. Not “just a hair” too wide. More like “could fit a sandwich in there” too wide.
Cue the panic. Cue the self-doubt. Cue the frantic Googling: “How to fix a dado cut that’s too wide?” Turns out, I’m not the first person to make this mistake. (Solidarity, fellow dado destroyers!)
Here’s where things get interesting. I could have started over, but that would mean admitting defeat. Instead, I grabbed some scrap wood, cut a thin strip to fill the gap, and glued it in place. It’s called a “dado patch,” but I prefer “creative problem solving.” After a little sanding and a lot of hope, the back panel fit snugly. Crisis averted!
And you know what? The patch is barely noticeable—unless you’re my wife, who now inspects my projects like a detective at a crime scene.
What did I learn?
Measure Twice, Router Once, Then Measure Again Just to Be Sure
Because apparently, math is optional until you’re staring at a dado wide enough to rent out as an Airbnb. If you’re not triple-checking your measurements, you’re basically gambling with your lumber—and the house always wins.
Mistakes Are Just Opportunities to Invent New Woodworking Terms
“Dado patch”? That’s not a mistake, it’s a feature! Next time you botch a cut, just slap a fancy name on it. Suddenly, you’re not fixing an error—you’re pioneering a new joinery technique. Coming soon: the “Oops-tenon” and the “Why-is-this-angle-here dovetail.”
If All Else Fails, Call It ‘Rustic’
Rustic is the woodworker’s get-out-of-jail-free card. Crooked shelf? Rustic. Visible glue? Rustic. Cabinet door that only closes on Tuesdays? You guessed it—rustic. If anyone questions your craftsmanship, just tell them you’re channeling the spirit of a 19th-century barn.
Google Is Your Shop Assistant
When panic strikes, remember: somewhere out there, another woodworker has made the exact same mistake—and posted about it online. The internet is full of dado disasters, router regrets, and “how do I fix this before my spouse sees it?” threads. Solidarity, my friends.
Your Spouse Is Now a Quality Inspector
No matter how well you hide that patch, your spouse will find it. They have a sixth sense for woodworking errors and will inspect your project like Sherlock Holmes at a crime scene. Pro tip: distract them with snacks.
Every Mistake Is a Story—And Sometimes, a New Piece of Furniture
That whiskey cabinet? It’s not just a cabinet. It’s a monument to perseverance, creative problem-solving, and the fact that you can fix almost anything with enough glue and optimism.
So, to all my fellow new woodworkers: embrace the mistakes. They make for the best stories—and sometimes, the best cabinets.
