It started a long time ago, in 2018.

It kind of sounded like this:

Hi Drew,

It probably won’t interest you immediately, but just asking. In our wood workshop in Gaillac, someone has felled an enormous “if” tree in his garden. In Dutch this is a Taxus baccata, English Yew, once sawn it will probably produce a beautiful irregular table top.

They are now asking who might be interested in participating, we would hire a mobile saw to have it cut into timber. I am not participating myself, but it would certainly be an idea for your dream project of a live edge table. Then I will take care of the transport and finishing, legs and such.

Let me know, it is far from certain that we will actually do this. “

Obviously stupid of me to ask such a thing. The e-mail was not yet cold when Drew answered straight away: “Please”. The race against time could begin.

A few months later the idea became reality. If only I had …

Luckily I was able to outsource the sawing and project coordination to Denis, who did a fantastic job. And a (small) crate of Westfleteren Trappist beer [The King of Beers, the Beer of Kings, it has been crowned several years Best Beer in the World, and is unfindable in France] earned me an everlasting gratitude.

The boards were neatly delivered, and the sorting and selection could begin. There were quite a few damaged spots here and there, as well as a few historical iron souvenirs …so it became a fun puzzle to get as much table as possible from those pieces.

The Real Work could begin. First the Design phase. Separately, the planks were not wide enough for a table, so they had to be combined and glued together. But Choosing is Losing. What live edge would we sacrifice? Finally the three pieces were juxtaposed, and we sawed a razor-sharp edge between the three pieces. Easy, each weighed only 50 kilos [100 pounds] or so …

I already had a vision of the end result:

Next Step. Those things had to be glued together. The planks were dry, but the irregular wood and the many cracks and knots could otherwise provide nice surprises if temperature or humidity would change…

In the end it became a combination of Festool dominoes, Titebond III wood glue, and countersunk bolts on the underside of the table, to keep everything together securely.

… followed by the Big Job. The three different parts had a height difference of 2 cm [3/4 inch] at the top (and for the savvy reader therefore also 2 cm at the bottom), and they were best flattened and smoothed out. It eventually turned into a multi-month project with a router mounted on a carriage, and it went smoothly, but if you take a 2 mm [ 1/16 inch] each time from a 7 square meter surface [30 square feet], then you are a busy person. I drove my buddies in the workshop completely mad with the noise, there was a huge party when the router finally went silent, and I was knee-deep in the shavings. Deep shit.

Finally we were done. But we were left with a few craters in the lunar landscape, which we could not possibly ignore. So we only added a few prosthesis. It was at the bottom, so only discoverable for real connoisseurs. Not recommended without proper table manners.

When all is said and done, more is said than done… There were still dozens of cracks and holes and crevices that could still be seen and felt everywhere.

Epoxy was the answer, black as the Southern French starry night. A special material, with which I had zero experience, a World Première for the undersigned. Denis had the experience and came to the rescue.

With horror stories about how creepy that stuff was, through the smallest holes and crevices it obeys inexorably 200% to the laws of gravity. You had to completely seal all holes and edges, any omission would be mercilessly punished. One mistake, and you wake up in the morning in a sea of ​​epoxy under your workpiece.

So we just sealed all those cracks with silicone, tape, and hot glue. Once that was done, all spots were brushed in with a thin layer of epoxy to prevent bubbles from forming, la vie est nulle sans bulles. A monk’s job indeed, it was no coincidence that we were working at the Castelrouge Abbey of the fathers Epicureans. Eventually the crevices at the bottom were filled ​​and taped, and at the top we built dikes around all holes and cracks with silicone and hot glue.

The Casting Adventure could begin. The dosage is quite precise, and you don’t want to prepare too much of the stuff, because after 12 hours it is already hard, and after 24 hours it is hardhardhard. So pour a little, and later cover everything neatly with a syringe for the smaller spots. 24 hours later: touch-ups. 48 hours later: touch-ups, 72 hours later: touch-ups, and on and on. After a week it was about presentable, we let it harden for a few days and then stripped away all the silicone. Silicon Hill rather than Silicon Valley

Finally, after many (literal) Ups and Downs, the tabletop was ready to be sanded. And Sanding Lasted Hours. You start with a grain of 60, then 80, then 100, followed by 120, 150, 180, 240 and 280. And then, the Time finally arrived that enough was Enough. Time for the next adventure.

We had already spent many sleepless nights figuring out what to do with the finish and protection, and did many trial samples. PolyUrethane varnish, Tung Oil, Danish Oil, Beeswax, Stain, anyway, all were fun experiments, until we ended up with an ultra-matte parquet varnish Skylt. Dutch stuff, Drew and Evi hopped across the border, and were enamored by it. The stuff ended up in France and was tested on the underside of the tabletop. Yes! Success! After about four hours I really started to wonder if I had treated the wood, there was no trace of it, except until you dropped water on it … Great product, that would work well

And then on a beautiful autumn day – we are writing 2020 – everything was ready and done. Peter made an artistic memento for the bottom.

Unfortunately, what we first had envisioned as a grand vernissage (literally) with hundreds of friends from Gaillac was wisely limited to Denis only, c/o Ms Corona. But it was festive, that feeling of relief.

The next day the Object was skilfully stowed by Peter in Jef’s Vito van(* thanksthanksthanks), and a few more things were added on top. Time for the High North.

The final stretch. Another short trip to Brasschaat, and I was finally on a good note with Drew and Evi. And now the tabletop still has to learn to stand on its own feet, but they haven’t quite figured that out yet. Stay tuned.