Every workshop has a story. Mine begins with a little girl.
My granddaughter calls me Poppy. Of all the names and titles I’ve had over the years, that one has become one of the most important.
So when it came time to put a name on the things I make, Poppy’s Woodworks just felt right.
I’ve always enjoyed making things with my hands. There is something satisfying about starting with a simple piece of wood and slowly turning it into something useful, something beautiful, or—on a really good day—both.
I also believe there is still value in doing things the old-fashioned way.
There are no computerized CNC machines doing the work here. No 3D printers turning out identical pieces. Just wood, saws, glue, nails, screws, a collection of tools, and my own two hands.
That means things may not always be absolutely identical.
I think that’s part of what makes them special.
A handmade piece carries little reminders that a person made it. Someone chose the wood. Someone measured it, cut it, shaped it, sanded it, assembled it and finished it. By the time it leaves the workshop, a little bit of its maker has become part of it.
I wanted to make things that could become part of someone’s home and perhaps someday part of their family's story. A toy a child remembers playing with. A box that eventually holds treasured letters or photographs. A piece of furniture with a few scratches and dents because it was actually used and loved.
Those are the things worth making.
Even the little heart in the Poppy’s Woodworks mark has a story behind it. When my granddaughter saw the design, that little heart mattered.
And somehow that seemed exactly right.
Wood may be what we build with. Love is the reason we build.