You need a bigger bench.
Nice work so far tho...
There's a story to that bench...
My friend (Bronco) Billy was restoring an old schoolhouse in a small Minnesota town many years ago. He was refurbishing the whole inside to convert it from a one-room schoolhouse into a family home--there was a town-sponsored grant that he was making use of, such that as long as the work was completed on time, his outlay of money was to be minimal. Historical importance and whatnot...
Billy was good with his hands, as a mechanic, carpenter, painter, whatever--he could do it. I met him while working in a mutual friend's motorcycle shop, and we became good friends. He was at least 15 (probably 20) years older than me, and I was still in my 20's, so I had a lot of respect for him and what he could do.
Part of the schoolhouse restoration process left him without any storage space for some time, and since I didn't have a proper workbench, he suggested that I might want to use his for a while. A win-win. At the time, he joked that if he ever needed it back he would ask, and that if he died before he asked for it back, it would be willed to me.
I didn't know Billy during his many earlier drinking years, and he was clean and sober for the few years I knew him, at least.
He started wintering in Arizona to get away from the snow in Minnesota, so it wasn't any big deal to not see him for several months during the winter.
Then one day, I got word that he was found dead in his Arizona residence. Apparently, he had taken up tequila again, and the evidence suggested that he drank himself to death. His girlfriend found him.
I have another spiffy workbench in the basement shop in the house, but this one is my favorite.
Haven't told this story for a long, long time. RIP Billy.
Shane