It came from a yard in Geeveston, not from a rack.
Four boards, air-dried longer than the man who sold them could quite remember. I bought the pack for the colour, which is the pale honey you only get if it wasn’t rushed through a kiln. One board had a shake and became the offcuts under the bench.
Blackwood moves. That’s why the sash isn’t glued into the frame, and why I won’t promise it won’t need a stroke with a plane next winter. If you want timber that sits still, this is the wrong shed.
The name on the door is sheoak because that was the first job, a screen for a house in Cygnet. The blackwood came later and stayed.