Some stories don't need to be told.
They can be felt – in the grain of old wood, in every mark of time, in the quiet dignity of a piece that has survived centuries.
Friends of mine own a beautiful 200-year-old timber-framed house. During recent restoration work, they had to replace some of the old structural beams. Knowing my deep love for working with reclaimed wood, they gifted me a few of the original ones – beams that had silently held the weight of history for generations.
I wanted to honor that gift.
So I turned one of those beams into a tablet – not a modern gadget, but a handcrafted wooden tray, shaped entirely by hand, using old techniques and a deep respect for the material’s past.
Before the tablet could exist, the beam had to be transformed. I cut it into boards and discovered traces of its long life – the paths of woodworms, darkened knots, and most fascinating of all: notches where small branches had once been inserted to hold the wattle-and-daub infill of the timber frame. You can still see those notches in the finished piece – a direct connection to the house it once belonged to.
Every board was planed by hand.
Joined with wooden pegs.
Finished with natural linseed oil.
No screws. No shortcuts. Just patience, care, and time.
The result is a tray that looks old – because it is old. But more than that: it feels alive. It carries a sense of warmth and calm. It's not just useful; it's comforting.
In the end, I gave it back to my friends as a thank-you – a piece of their home, reborn, yet still full of memories.
And there’s more to come. I’ll be crafting many other small treasures from the remaining beams. My hope is that these objects will bring a quiet sense of coziness and soul into other people’s homes – while preserving the spirit of the past and giving old resources a meaningful second life.
Because when we save old wood,
we’re not just saving materials –
we’re saving stories.
