Last time, we told you the truth about a board with no vision — one we built for chaos, on purpose, and only half-forgave once it was done. It was supposed to double as a prop and a gift for Mrs. Woodworx. It succeeded at exactly one of those jobs.

Mrs. Woodworx likes things patterned. Organized. Intentional. I gave her a board that looked like it lost an argument with a wood chipper. Character, sure. But not her kind of character. So I owed her a real one.

Early in our marriage, our kitchen ran on a cherry-and-white theme — clean lines, rich red against crisp white. I hadn't touched that palette in years. Seemed like exactly the right note to hit for the redo: Hard Maple for the white, Black Cherry for the cherry. Structured checkerboard, straight lines, no chaos allowed this time.

The cherry has its own story. I traded a chainsaw for a 6' × 18" log, milled it myself on the bandsaw, and let it dry before it ever saw a blade meant for furniture. There's something satisfying about a board where you can point to the log and say, that's the one, the one I got for a chainsaw.

Here's where it stopped being a straight line. Cutting the strips down for the checkerboard, the table saw cut them slightly thinner in the middle than at the ends. Not a lot. Just enough that when the panel came together, it carried a gentle bow straight through the center.

A board with no vision gets to stay ugly. A board with a vision doesn't get that pass. This one had to actually work.

Before I touched the CNC, I brought the bow to Mrs. Woodworx and pitched the idea straight: instead of fighting the curve out, what if we kept it and made it look like we meant it? She loved it — gave the whole redesign her blessing before a single file was loaded. This wasn't me sneaking another "feature" past her. She was in on it from the start.

So onto the CNC. I made the curve consistent — a deliberate, even sweep instead of an accident. Cut a matching outer curve into both ends so the whole board reads as one intentional shape, not a straight rectangle that lost a fight. Then ran the juice groove to follow that same curve all the way around, so every line on the board agrees with every other line.

That's the difference between this board and the last one. The ugly board took a wrong turn and we let it keep going. This one took a wrong turn and we told it where the road actually went.

Same finish philosophy as always: polymerized linseed oil, thinned with D'Limonene instead of a petroleum solvent. Once that's fully cured, it gets a coat of RESURGO on top. The cherry will keep deepening toward that vivid red as it cures and sees light — the pale, blonde look in the process shots above is a temporary state, not the finished color.

This is the board the last one owed Mrs. Woodworx. Same shop, same week's worth of mistakes as always — just this time, we made the mistake answer to the plan instead of the other way around.