The lumber piled in Dennis and Janet Rorabaugh’s shed clearly has seen better days.

The redwood used to be a deck, where its owners probably barbecued and spent nice summer evenings. But now, it’s rough and splintered, and it looks like the sun-beaten wooden sidewalk in a black-and-white Western.

“We call it character,” Dennis Rorabaugh says. “But it’s nail holes and screw holes.”

Soon, though, that beat-up lumber will be given a new life as benches Dennis Rorabaugh makes in his woodshop northwest of Lawrence, and Janet Rorabaugh paints with one of several colorful designs.

They’ll be selling the recycled-wood benches today at the Fall Arts & Crafts Festival, which runs from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. in South Park. Around 225 artists and artisans will be exhibiting.

“We advertise it that way when we go to a show, that it’s all recycled wood, and if it wasn’t here it would be at a landfill somewhere,” Dennis Rorabaugh says. “People latched onto that.”

Dennis and Janet Rorabaugh, rural Lawrence, team together to create and decorate benches from recycled wood. Dennis builds the benches from scraps of wood he salvages, and Janet adds the decorative paintings. The two will have their benches for sale at the annual Fall Arts & Crafts Festival, which begins at 10 a.m. today at South Park.

The Rorabaughs have been doing crafts for more than 20 years but started doing the benches about five years ago. They used to go to more than a dozen craft fairs a year, but now weaned it down to two – today’s show, and the Maple Leaf Festival in Baldwin.

The idea for the benches came after one of the couple’s friends, a contractor in Atchison, said he had some spare lumber.

Since then, he’s gotten calls from friends and others who are tearing out decks. And he recently splurged on lumber, spending 50 cents for a pair of waterbed frames at a junk sale.

With the price of lumber going up, the Rorabaughs say the free lumber is the only way they can keep the price of the benches reasonable, around $25 or $30.

The wood works perfectly for the benches – which range from 24 to 36 inches long – once the outer layer is cut away.

“With the recycled stuff, all it does is take a lot of time,” Dennis Rorabaugh says. “I’ve been retired 11 years. I’ve got a lot of time.”

Rorabaugh, 71, taught math at Lawrence High School for 28 years before retirement. He taught himself to work with wood.

He says his favorite part of making the benches is completing them only with the wood he’s given.

“It depends on the lumber I’ve got,” he says. “I fit the benches to the lumber. I don’t fit the lumber to the benches.”

After the structure of the bench is complete, Janet Rorabaugh, 69, starts the finishing touches. Sunflower designs are among the most popular, though American flags and chickens also are up there.

The Rorabaughs use leaves from their yard, tracing a pattern of them on some of their benches, which they then paint.

Fred Madaus, a family friend, has purchased several of the Rorabaughs’ benches over the years. Their desire for free lumber is well-known among their friends, Madaus says.

“The hunt for that recycled wood is really interesting to him,” he says. “He’s got everybody kind of tuned in to listening about redwood decks. His offer is once they’re torn up, he’ll come in and clean up everything and haul it away for you. He finds a way to use a pretty high percentage of the wood.”

Dennis Rorabaugh, rural Lawrence, who builds benches from recycled wood, will have the benches for sale at the annual Fall Arts & Crafts Fair today in South Park.

Judy Randolph, another family friend, says the project fits the Rorabaughs well in their retirement.

“It’s a neat idea,” she says. “The wood has a second life. And it’s kind of a family project. He does the woodwork, and she does the decorating. It’s complementary.”

Janet Rorabaugh says her husband threatens to stop making the benches every so often. But then, somebody else will call with a shipment of free lumber.

“That’s what keeps him going,” she says. “The wood keeps coming. He can’t say no to it.”

He’s getting to the point he’ll be slowing down soon. But it’s not by choice.

“I’m waiting for the next call,” he says. “I’m down to a small pile of lumber.”