An idiosyncratic window well platform

A few years ago, I nabbed a large wooden filing cabinet off of Freecycle.  It was the kind with sideways drawers -- it looked more like a table or a dresser than a tall pillar.  I figured, since I would soon be retiring and would be moving files from my office to my home, I'd need it for storage.  

Did I need it?  Actually, no, not in the long run.  As I transitioned from office to home during my last official year as a professor, and then condensed stuff to make my home rentable for the year after that, I realized that the number of paper files I actually want to have on hand is much smaller than I'd anticipated.  This large chest for storing files was not only more storage space than I needed, but it was also taking up a lot of floor space that I wanted to free up. And--since I knew from trying to rehome file folders within the office that everyone else in the world is moving from paper to digital-- I knew I wasn't going to easily find a taker for this giant piece of furniture. 

So instead of putting it back on Freecycle, I disassembled it with my screwdriver into many flat planks of wood.

I'd read somewhere that one of the big clutter items that makes cleaning out houses a challenge is scrap lumber -- all those pieces of wood that "might be useful someday".  Whether or not scrap-lumber-as-hoarding is actually a broader reality, that concept resonates with me: I have all sorts of wooden odds and ends in the basement, and I try hard not to let them take over the space . . . but I don't always feel like I succeed.  I didn't want to add this lumber to the basement stash.  Could it find new life?

Sometimes I slice up scrap lumber and offer it to friends with burn pits.  Much of this old cabinet was laminated: not suitable for burning. And I didn't want to do a project that would lead to a new piece of clutter -- I didn't want to make yet another Something-that-could-be-useful-someday.  

Here's a side rant: you know how sometimes you'll read gushing articles about how we're saving the planet by turning soda bottles into something like park benches?  The tone of those articles irks me.  It's not saving the planet -- we're postponing the inevitable hazardous waste problem that plastic bottles impose on our finite planet.  It's not like the world was saying "Hey! We need more park benches and have no idea of how we could make these from wood or stone or other non-toxic materials".  I say that to note that this cabinet-deconstruction project is in much the same category.  I know that whatever I do is just postponing an inevitable  disposal problem. 

What on earth (or in my home) could this heavy
block of wood be useful for?

I had a solution in search of a problem, that's what I had.  And so I let these boards sit for a while, to give me time to cogitate, and then one day an actual solvable problem just zinged into my consciousness.  Huzzah!

Here in the "Kitchen of Many Delights", one of the oddities of architecture is that the sink is in front of a window, but not right next to the window: the counter wraps around a window well. Why? I think the people who installed the counters and such didn't want to cover up the bottom of the window for some odd reason.

So behind the sink, there's a deep well that's basically inaccessible unless I climb up onto the counter and reach way down.  

I've learned to live with this -- I find it so odd that it's kind of amusing.  But I realized that instead of letting stuff fall down into the well and having to get out the ladder to clamber around to rescue it, I could create a platform to house my new plants.  (This window gets some of the very best afternoon and evening sun, after all).

The space is an odd shape, but I traced out a template with newspaper, and then used the template and my circular saw to cut the heavy, laminated cabinet top to size.  I used some of the other boards from the cabinet to create an "I"-shaped support underneath the platform, to raise it up.  

And now I have a platform I can reach, a platform that's washable, and that is actually useful -- instead of taking up space, it makes formerly inaccessible space useable. 

The window well holds my new plants,
and has a lovely view of my neighbor's trash cans.
Memento mori, folks.

I still have a few pieces of lumber left from that cabinet, but they're mostly particle board I can deal with more easily.  The biggest (and most laminated) portions are doing useful service for me.  I'm totally counting this project as a success.