Everyone needs a home. Everyone wants a home. Home is where the heart is. Home is where the journey starts. HOMES is the mnemonic device to remember the names of the Great Lakes. (How’s that for a total non sequitur?)
I’ve got a saying that I’ve found myself repeating a lot lately. Every tool needs a home, and there needs to be a home for every tool. Yeah, it’s a ripoff from the Shaker’s expression, a place for everything, and everything in it’s place.
But what if your tools are homeless? Are your tools like most peoples’, a jumble in the bottom of a drawer? In a cold, soulless metal box? Or worse, in a plastic (gasp!) container?
That’s like the skid row of tool homes. Hey, I’ve got more than a few of the plastic drill bit cases, or a blown plastic caliper case that’s hard to open, or the “139 piece screw bit case” from the Big Box. Yeah, I’m guilty.
But your tools deserve better. Your tools need a home.
I am building a series of nice tool boxes, from oak and cherry and maple and walnut. They will house your sockets and wrenches and ratchets and adapters. I’m still working on the exact layout in SketchUp, but I have built a prototype for a Kobalt set I picked up from Lowe’s a while back. Metric, because that is the Preferred Solution (a topic for another blog post). When I got them home, I went to store them on one of those sticks with the studs that you snap the sockets onto. I bet you’ve got three sitting around with various sockets stuck on them. And I thought, there’s a better way. A more beautiful way. A way to look at the box and instantly know if a socket is missing or not. A socket box that you will give to your grandchildren, and THEY will give to THEIR grandchildren.
I took the socket and measured the diameter and bought the Forstner bits and drilled and glued and sawed and now my sockets have a home.