It’s that time of year again. The snow no longer melts when it hits the ground, people have disappeared under layers of coats, hats, and gloves, and the windows of houses in my little town are starting to blink with coloured lights in the evening.

What could make a better gift than something you make with care and thought and skill? Something made out of wood, easily the warmest of materials. Something made using tools and knowledge. Something special for someone you care about. The person who receives such a special gift will truly appreciate it – and you – for a very long time.
Or so went the argument made by my mother when I was 12.

My father’s Aunt Bessie was going to be spending the holidays with us and my mother decided it would be nice if I made, using my own hands and the tools in the shed, a picture frame with my school photo in it. I protested, of course. I had never made anything, and while of course I could make a picture frame, I just didn’t want to.
My protest was dismissed. Soon, I was out in the shed, in the near dark, shivering and wondering what I was supposed to do.
Luckily, my father came to the rescue. First, he laughed heartily at my plight and said it served me right (which I never did understand). Then he asked me what I was going to use to make the picture frame. I meekly looked around and saw some pieces of 1×2 strapping that were cut into garden stakes. That looked perfect to me, so I snatched four of them up and held them out.

He took the stakes and asked what I would do about the dirt. I said I could wash that off and then paint it and it would look pretty darn good. He laughed at me again and threw the stakes back into the corner. That, he said, would be a dog’s breakfast.
I knew even less about what a dog eats for breakfast.
He then decided we should go to the hardware store and get what I needed to make a picture frame. There was no hesitation. He knew exactly what to get. Without a word, we were back outside with two eight foot pieces of two inch moulding.
At least it was mahogany.

I didn’t recognize it at the time, but I was feeling something that has stayed with me ever since. I get a queasy feeling whenever I need to use something ready-made and cheap-looking for a finished product. I have nothing against moulding – I think it’s great. It goes really well around windows and doorways. Some of it is quite detailed, indeed. And some of it is quite plain. You can usually get the right look for the opening you want to frame.
But moulding for a picture?
I thought that was cheating.

No matter, we were home again soon enough and I had the material and was all set. My father asked me what I was going to do. I described the process briefly. I was going to cut four pieces of this wood, glue them together, and tape my picture on the back.
He didn’t laugh. He just went back in the house.

I found a mitre box and a hacksaw. I found a bigger handsaw first but it didn’t seem to fit in the mitre box very well. I had some idea of how big my school picture was, so I started making some cuts. I cut one piece for the side, then I cut another piece just like it for the other side. I was careful to make them the same length. I repeated the procedure for the top and bottom and was very pleased and proud of myself. I had only wasted about three feet of moulding and had only cut myself twice.
I carried my pieces into the house for assembly. I set them out on the dining table and glued the first corner together. I held the joint with masking tape. I then glued the second joint. When I went to glue the last piece, however, I could not get the joints to close. I could not get any of the joints to close, actually. And in the stark light of kitchen, the cuts looked much more jagged than they did in the dark of the shed.

But I was done, anyway. I squeezed as much glue into the joints as I could and let it sit overnight.
In the morning, it looked a bit better. It was fairly square and it didn’t fall apart when I picked it up. But my photo didn’t really fit in it. I decided to attach the photo to a piece of cardboard and then glue that onto the frame. I was almost finished when my mother came in and saw what I was doing.
She decided I should buy a frame instead.

Original publish date December 22, 2013