For about two months, my dad swore me to secrecy while he built. He was constructing a precious heirloom for the family: a beautiful crib for our babies to sleep, rock, and test their lungs out in. It'll accommodate the critters until they're about four months old. He also pre-installed plaques for each baby that would soon be swaddled in the work of art. Notice the plaques on the long end-post. The baby's name and date of birth will be engraved on the plaque. Not that he'll only have three grandkids, but that's all he bought for now. More can be added later.
Dad can't take all the credit, although he deserves most of it. He planned it, altered the plans, bought the material, put it all together, and stained it. The hardest and most time extensive part of it all was the sanding. Mom, Zack, Jim, and I all pitched in to smooth edges, fill imperfections, but mostly repeatedly run the electric sander over the parts of the soon-to-be crib.
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