Measure twice, cut once

By Carol Wenner of Alexandria

This story shares my husband Bruce Wenner’s journey in woodworking, shaped by his father’s influence and the challenges of a modest upbringing. 

I’ve watched Bruce’s lifelong connection to nature, his achievements as a Minnesota Master Gardener, and his active participation in the Alexandria Garden Club have shaped his character and brought him joy. I’m proud to tell you how Bruce appreciates traditional woodworking techniques, treasures his unique relationships with local craftspeople, and deeply values community connections and resourcefulness.

Bruce is helped by his big brother, Mike, building a model airplane in their younger years. Contributed photo

If there’s one thing Bruce has tried to teach anyone willing to learn—it’s the importance of measuring twice and cutting once. Life, of course, throws its own distractions, so sometimes that rule becomes “measure twice and cut twice.” Bruce’s journey in woodworking began with lessons from his father, Mike, who often faced periods of unemployment due to health issues. To make ends meet during these times, Mike took on home repairs and woodworking projects himself. Bruce often recalls, “Dad wasn’t always a patient teacher, but he taught me how to operate basic tools and woodworking equipment.”

Bruce grew up in a modest home on the east side of St. Cloud. His father sold insurance, and his mother worked as a waitress. Out of necessity, Bruce and his two brothers, Michael and Gordon, learned to supplement the family’s meals and income by hunting, fishing, and taking on odd jobs. Sports were considered an extra expense, so the family bonded through activities like hunting, fishing, and camping near the Ludwig homestead—a tradition that became a cherished part of their lives together.

Bruce has always felt a connection to nature. I remember when he was a certified Minnesota Master Gardener, volunteering his time to educate others about gardening. One year, his garden on our property was featured on the University of Minnesota Garden Tour and on PBS’s Prairie Yard and Garden, which was a proud moment for both of us. As a current member of the Alexandria Garden Club, Bruce enjoys exchanging ideas and resources with fellow gardening enthusiasts. He especially loves growing a diverse array of trees and holds a deep appreciation for the beautiful hardwood they provide for craftsmen like him.

Over the years, I’ve watched Bruce develop a real appreciation for unique old-world and time-tested woodworking techniques. His mild-mannered personality served him well when he first sought out an Amish sawmill for purchasing wood. He built a connection with a family in Long Prairie, learning some of their woodworking methods and buying their kiln-dried wood. While the process of making phone calls to schedule meetings and transporting materials is a bit unconventional, Bruce has always found the extra effort worthwhile.

About thirty years ago, Bruce and I were both starting over. We found ourselves purchasing a small, older home out of necessity, and together we tackled renovation projects, one room at a time. Our house sits right in the heart of Alexandria, along the walking path to City Park. As the years passed and we grew older, we became increasingly aware of the steady flow of traffic along the highway, just a hundred feet from our doorstep. There were times we considered moving out to the country, but something about our neighborhood—the warmth of the people and the ease of getting around—kept us grounded. One of my favorite daily pleasures is watching the walkers and bikers pass by our window; it’s wonderful to see people enjoying the outdoors.

To create a sense of enclosure and privacy, Bruce decided to build a fence. He has constructed whimsical structures before, such as an arbor and a wishing well along the trail, using scrap wood from a doghouse, giving the projects more meaning for him. For the privacy fence, Bruce chose White Oak, and he pieced it together with mortise and tenon joints, no hardware needed. When people ask about the technique, Bruce always says, “I want it to last for the rest of our lives, plus nothing will rust, so it adds a natural beauty to our surroundings.” I share his appreciation for things that endure, especially when they’re crafted with care.

Bruce recently finished a six foot fence on our property. He used Amish wood and he constructed it with no hardware. Pegs and mortise and tenons only.  Contributed photo

Preparing the wood took so much time and patience, especially since Bruce’s tools had been worn down from years of home projects. Late summer was particularly tough, as Bruce needed major eye surgery, which slowed everything down. That’s when our neighbor George stepped in. He’d been walking by on the trail, showing interest in Bruce’s woodworking technique, and didn’t hesitate to help with heavy lifting and reading the fine print. George and his wife Kathy have become not only good neighbors but dear friends. Bruce’s cousin Ron, who is incredibly talented, also helped by making a metal jig template so Bruce’s cuts could be more precise. The first section of the fence, about six feet tall and 70 feet long, stands along the back corner of our garden near the trail. Bruce is planning to finish prepping the rest of the wood this winter, hoping to wrap up the project in the spring.

Life has its twists and turns, and Bruce and I try to take each day as it comes. Whether Bruce is replacing broken equipment or facing health setbacks, he’s often reminded of his dad’s words: “Everything has a special tool, and every project has a season.” I hold onto that wisdom, too, as we face whatever comes next—together.