Table building for hopeless cases

I have borrowed three books about woodwork because it seems that I can't even remember the basics.

The picture is of a coffee table I made that has black velvet underneath a glass top. Forgive the tacky velvet effect and the strangely positioned legs, I was a teenager and thought it was cool. Actually, I still think the velvet is cool, so maybe I shouldn't be so hard on myself. Anyway, these days, I'm sad to say that I look at timber and just draw blanks. In fact, I went into Bunnings to see what they had in stock and I buckled under the pressure of having all the men (there were no women to be seen) stare at me. A few of them looked as if they were going to come over to see if I was lost. So I made a very quick note of what I wanted to use and I bolted. Because, in truth, I was lost. I knew what kind of wood I wanted, but there is no way I could have named a cut or even explained what I was trying to do.

What am I trying to do? I have no idea. I started off thinking I'd make some planter boxes for my garden, but now I'm starting to think 'just make a table. An outdoors table so if it's rubbish it doesn't matter'.

I think that's a rather good idea. If it goes horribly wrong, I'll tear it apart and build the planters. And pretend it never happened.

I'm looking forward to settling on a design, changing it, breathing in sawdust and the inevitable sense of contentment at the end. Wood does that to people. There are also books on woodcarving at work, but I'll take one craft project at a time. I'm planning the novel, thesis and a trip to Vietnam (hooray! I'm going to travel again!), so I think I might need to watch what I take on.