About ten years ago, Costco had a nice little Brother sewing machine on sale that would do simple embroidery. A couple friends had teen-age girls, and I was planning on making jewelry cases for them for Christmas. What would be cooler than having their name embroidered in the lining?

That plan actually worked, and I was favorite family friend for almost a year.

But storing the sewing machine between uses was an issue. I bought a generic case for it, but it's ugly, badly sized and awkward to use.

I could design a better one.

I also wanted to try some frame and panel woodworking with a relatively new material - construction plastic that comes in small panels a quarter inch thick.

So, I measured the size of the sewing machine body, drew up a set of plans, calculated the sizes for tongues and grooves and made up a cut-list.

I double checked my math and my measurements, then headed to the workshop and cut the pieces I'd need.

Being paranoid as well as careful, I took the pieces upstairs, laid them out on the dining room table and made sure the sewing machine would fit.

You can guess the next line.

Of course it didn't

I'd measured the body of the sewing machine perfectly. But I didn't measure the knob on the side that sticks out, or the height of a spool of thread that sticks up or a half dozen other little details.

After I used up all of my profanities (that takes a while), I figured out how I could re-arrange the pieces I'd cut, cut just a few new ones, and make a bigger cabinet that would still fit on the shelf.

This time, I cut a piece, checked that it would fit, and then went on to the next.

We won't mention how many false starts this included, but I did not need to get more lumber to finish the project, and now I've got lots of "scrap wood" to make picture frames, small boxes or such.

I ended up with a not-bad looking piece. It fits the sewing machine, and has two top-down drawers to hold thread, etc. As you can see, it puts all my sewing essentials in easy reach.