I'm back from the Woodwright's School

I just had a nice visit to The Woodwright's School in Pittsboro, NC, and I wanted to share a little bit about my experience.

Roy Underhill discusses trade-offs in sharpening with the class 

The class I took was "Introduction to Hand Tool Woodworking" taught by Roy Underhill, which might seems strange for a person who has been working with hand tools and writing about for years. I had my reasons though, and I did learn a few things. Mostly, though, it was a fun and motivating way to spend a couple of days, knocking the rust of my skills, spending some time with like-minded folk, and having to keep up with the pace of a class. I chose this class in particular because of the teacher, and because it was a relatively small time/money commitment compared to other classes. It was the first time I've taken a woodworking class, and I'm really glad I did it.

Now that the conclusion is out of the way, here's a list of some highlights:

* Roy was his goofy and magnanimous self, like on TV but without rushing to get it all into one take. To hear him tell it, he wasted class time with self-serving anecdotes, but listening to his banter is in my humble opinion, a major benefit of this particular school.

* Hanging out with 10 other woodworkers was fun. Don't get me wrong, it was a pretty introverted crowd (as I have come to expect in this hobby) so I'm not talking about wild rollicking craziness, but it was nice to have some camaraderie, and to share information and stories. Hello Jean-Paul, Tiffani, Joel, and the rest of the class (should you happen to read this)!

* The wood we got to work with was choice. We built bench hooks starting from a green walnut log-which was a bit of a revelation. It split easily, but only when I wanted it to, and planing it felt amazingly smooth. The purple and yellow undertones were cool too. We made dovetailed boxes from [dried] poplar on day 2. Both were especially smooth and easy to work with, and beautiful. 

The bench I was using

* Ed and his shop full of nicely tuned old tools upstairs. They were available to try out during class, which was a really nice bonus. Just having access to a store like that is a good opportunity considering the tools are cheaper than new, but sharp and ready to go...plus there is a lot of variety. I didn't take massive advantage of this because I'm pretty well equipped at this point, but I did pick up a saw set.

* Did I mention I learned some stuff? Even though I've split logs, milled stock, and cut dovetails before, by giving myself over to someone else's methods, I learned a few things. I had never used hot hide glue before, and trying it out removed the intimidation factor. I also learned some subtle things about dovetailing that I think will make it go a lot faster in the future.

* Getting to use a real workbench! Mine is still in progress because I've had limited time for woodworking since mid 2015, and this felt like a luxury.

* Pittsboro was a charming little town with some great stuff to offer. The City Tap and Small St. B & B stand out in particular. The City Tap had a great selection of microbrews that weren't dominated by IPAs as is so often the case in my neck of the woods. And the Small St. B & B was just phenomenal. The room I slept in was a piece of art, the food was divine, and the couple that ran it made me feel completely at home. If you find yourself in Pittsboro, go try their hotcakes when they are serving breakfast, whether you are staying there or not! (because they're also a breakfast/brunch restaurant)

* The driving was an experience. It was 11+ hours each way for me. I'm not sure it was a highlight in every sense, but it was a very memorable part of the trip, and I would do it again.

* I brought home useful stuff that I made:

Useful stuff, safely home.

A useful mallet-making tangent

I was chopping out a giant sliding dovetail for my workbench endcap, when my chisel mallet broke again. I really didn't feel like trying to get the pieces glued together for the third time, so I started making a couple malletts to replace it. Two is a good number of mallets to have, because if one breaks, you can still bash mortise chisels to make another one. Since I was starting from 1/2 a mallet, one of mine was made with a wedged dowel in an auger hole for a handle.

busted commercially-made mallet, surrounded by 2 new mallets.

I had a short length of 2" x 2" maple available, so that's what I used for the heads. My widest mortise chisel is 1/2", so I made the handle out of 1/2" thick maple. I traced and carved a shape for the handle, and traced the orientation of the wedge-shaped top on the maple block, in the orientation most comfortable. Rounding the handle made it quite comfortable, even as narrow as it is.

Gluing leather onto the slightly domed face. Hide glue seems to fit rhe bill.

I domed the face a little with a block plane, and glued two thicknesses of leather on it. And rounded the back so it won't look like a hitting face.

Completed mallet.

Double thick leather was needed for the right kind of thud.

Here is the other mallet I made. The handle was originally about a 20" length of 3/4" poplar dowel (because that's what I had), but it had an unpleasant vibration until I cut it down quite a lot. It works well as a short mallet.

While I was sidetracked anyway, I made this planing stop. It was useful for making mallet handles.

This weird looking design actually has familiar ergonomics. Instead on cutting the face at an angle, the handle curves down at an angle. Either way knuckles stay just above the bench in use.

Corner cutting board

This is a cutting board I made for a specific corner of my kitchen island. Without it this space was pretty much wasted, but now it is a perfect spot for food prep. As is typical for me, I'm not going to go step by step through the build, but just acquaint you with the design. The wood is some cherry (6/4 I think) offcuts that I had gotten a good deal on.

Even though this is little more than a rectangle of wood, it is a perfect example of why I make stuff. It has several subtle features that are specific to the need. The footprint matches the space, the thickness is chosen to be enough so that a knife is unlikely to contact the stove knobs. There is a small groove to catch debris or liquid and keep it away from the stove.

The real impetus for this was the cleats though. A couple of strips of wood screwed into the bottom hold the cutting board in its spot while in use.

And then there's this odd little tab on the far corner. It's a foot. because of the cleats, this needs it to stay level if it gets set somewhere else. It's a short piece of the cleat material. My first idea was to do a hidden version, but then I imagined a scenario where we're using the cutting board to serve an appetizer. I can just picture someone fishing around for the tab while lowering it onto the coffee table and spilling a pile of cheese into the eagerly waiting canine mouths that tend to anticipate these things at my house. So, I opted for the visible version.

The simplest way I found to get the foot to sit right was to inset the hinge. I did it with a small router plane and my marking knife. It would have been slightly easier with the help of a small curved gouge, but I was finishing up the details in the kitchen, and I didn't feel like walking back downstairs to get it.

 The groove is really meant to keep gunk off the stove. To keep stuff off the floor, I tapered it down to the right. I hand-held a shoulder plane at a little bit of an angle and used it with a 1/2" set up block and my fingers as a fence. The fence wasn't necessary after the first stroke. I started all my strokes at the same spot near the left (far) end to get the taper. After that I finished it off with a few strokes from a small plane I have with a fingernail-like profile.

Well, I hope I inspired you to fill a need somewhere. That's all for now.

Adjustable height stool

When I started building my workbench, I promised myself I would avoid the complexity of any height adjusting mechanisms or bench-on-bench contraptions, instead deciding the simpler way to get close to my work was having a good place to sit. I recently decided to get a little fancy and make the stool adjustable. This was also a good opportunity to try out tapered round mortise & tenon joinery, which was extremely simple compared to the usual rectangles.

My newest workbench accessory

Construction details:

• maple with walnut wedges. I accidentally put the wedges in the wrong direction, but fortunately nothing split)
• tapered octagonal legs were made by laying out both ends and planing to the lines. A handscrew clamp, itself clamped to the bench, was instrumental in holding the legs after I had tapered the first two sides. A jack plane with a rank setting made short work of it.
• I used a reamer and tenon cutter from Lee Valley
• mortises were made by drilling and using a tapered reamer
• tenons were made by sawing shoulders, whittling approximate tapers, then using a tenon cutter
• the legs are arranged to sort of "windmill" around the center, because I like the way it looks. If I were to do it again, I would make them splay out more for increased stability. But what I did works OK.
• The adjustment comes from so-called "piano stool hardware" that I found at Lee Valley. It works really smoothly (and could probably serve as good vise hardware). The overall height is quite low, raning from "I'm sitting at the workbench" down to "My eyes are peeking above the workbench surface".
• The seat and hub were made from 8/4" maple, laid out as a circle on a board that was just wide enough for the hub. This makes the stool very stout, although a little top-heavy for my taste.
• The seat was shaped using spokeshaves, drawknives, a jack plane, and probably a few other shaping tools I have lying around. Since the stool lives in the workshop, I'll probably shape it more as time goes on and I learn where the uncomfortable parts are (I've already gone back and done this once).
• I finished with one coat of danish oil, which is very minimal, but looks nice and is easy to reapply after subsequent seat re-shaping.

planer stand

I recently aqcuired a new planer and built a rolling stand for it. Here's how it turned out:

Unfolded and empty

Folded and full, including storage and wedges

The planer is a DW735, which now has a Shelix head in it. I've got some more photos showing the details. of the stand and the setup, and how I got there.

I got plywood and some clear riftsawn construction lumber from the local home center.

With the planer set up on another surface, the parts were milled to size.

Here's the basic planer stand. the casters are on plywood triangles that are not easy to see. I hid many of the screws.

I eventually installed the Shelix head. Here you can see the reflection of the little carbide blades. I am  very satisfied.

The Shelix head is a little smaller, apparently. Masking tape to the rescue.

Here's a dowel notched to hold the folding tables up.

Shelf in two sections. This should make it easy to remove, sweep, etc.

Fitted but loose, a compromise

I recently decided to keep a small plane handy in the top till of my tool chest, but didn't want it banging around with the other tools, going dull or losing it's settings. Neither did I want to "french-fit" it into a permanent part of my tool chest. Sure, I reach for this tool often this month, but that could change.

So I landed somewhere in the middle, making this protective "plane coaster", which fits the tool but isn't nailed down. It protects the blade and provides a little elbow room (not my elbows, hypothetical miniature bronze plane elbows).

I made it out of a scrap of 1/4" aromatic cedar. It was from a pre-tongue-and-grooved board of the sort you can line closets with. There wasn't much to it. I traced the plane footprint onto the wood with a hobby knife, and excavated with a small router plane. I also made a small, probably unnecessary relief for the blade. I like it because it's a visual indication of which direction the plane should face on its way back to its home. I slathered the whole thing with the same camellia oil I used on the plane post-honing, and I really like the way it looks.

As luck would have it, the "coaster" fits snugly enough to stay attached when you lift the plane by the body. We'll see how that changes with the seasons.

By the way, this is the "violin maker's plane" from Lie Nielsen, though I'm using it as you might use any block plane.

Not quite a Nicholson

I have been struggling with a mess on my workbench for a little while during some shop reorganization, but today I found myself looking at a clean bench and realizing I have never posted about it. You may be familiar with the Nicholson style bench as popularized by Chris Schwarz, and nicely demonstrated by Mike Siemsen. This is basically the front corner of that set on some sawhorses. It's a fraction of a Nicholson ("Farthingson"?).

This bench-top is completed by some adjustable sawhorses, a spare plank, and lots of ballast.

Many woodworkers with voices on the internet sound like they speak from experience when they recommend figuring out your working style before building a fancy bench. Well, that's what this is perfect for. It's actually my second bench. The first one taught be a lot, but was too rickety and really meant for a child.

This one came about because I needed something I could make in a hurry and clamp to a kitchen island to provide a stable place for me to work with 3 friends. I soon realized I could put in on sawhorses and have a temporary bench better than what I had. I am planning on getting around to building a "Roubo" style bench in the near future (that's what the ballast is for), but this is really a perfect & simple way to get on with some projects while learning my preferences. Adjustable height sawbenches really take the cake.

And it couldn't be simpler to build. I screwed some 2x lumber together in an L-shape, then went over it with my jack plane (be sure to sink those screw-heads). I used some small blocks and screws to hold the benchtop to the sawhorses, and used an extra board for more surface area (not leveled with the main top).

Even the dog holes are easy, thanks to a healthy dose of procrastination. I used a marking gauge and dividers to lay out dog holes, but I didn't drill any except the few I needed at the moment. Whenever I need a dog hole that's not there, I grab my brace. I've been using this for over a year now, and there are still dimples in the front waiting for an auger to come along and make them [w]hole (sorry--punning is a disgusting habit). I just haven't needed them in that spot yet. And it's not tiring at all to drill one or two holes at a time.

I've got no vises (or even a crochet), and I do occasionally want for them, but for the most part this bench is great. 3/4" holes are incredibly versatile when aided by the vast array of accessories available today. A thicker top might be nice for holdfasts, and vises would make certain operations faster. I've figured out the bench height I like. So essentially I'm able to work efficiently now, and I know exactly what features I want in a more permanent bench.

You can do a lot without vises. For the picture I loaded it up with pretty much every accessory I have.

The best part is that I can store it on a lumber rack if I need to get it out of the way.

I recommend this bench design if you are just getting started, and you like the idea of being up and running in a couple of hours.

Heck, you can always turn it into a full-fledged Nicholson later if you have a free weekend.

Open frame for squares

Recently I bought a beautifully made double square from Chris Vesper. It got me thinking about how I always feel like I am on the verge of dropping small tools off my narrow (temporary) workbench, and how close I come to to tool abuse taking things in and out of the the tightly packed measuring section of my tool chest. Having been inspired by seeing the Studley tool chest in person, I decided to build a small open frame to hold the square, it's spare blades (rulers) and a couple of related tools.

Frame, en situ. And yes, I do see the irony of putting precisely made measuring tools in this thing with hardly a square corner in it.

And before anyone accuses me of comparing my work to Studley's, I'll say that my workmanship is far, far, worse. And my design is a bit more practical for my use. So this is very different. But we can all learn from Studley when it comes to space efficiency.

Dovetailed frame from padauk and maple tool supports.

I had some scraps of padauk and maple, so I fooled with layout for a bit then got to work.

Wasting away material after tracing the tools. This is tremendously more efficient when I limit myself to exactly one mallet whack for each time I place the chisel.

I made a ton of errors chopping out all the waste at different depths. I just kept going and tried to recover as best I could. I think I used ca glue to recover from about 6 different overenthusiastic chisel blows. But I measured myself mainly on whether to tools fit, and it turned out OK.

I knew this miniature router plane would be handy! In the background you can see a repair in progress--I scabbed on a little block to the other narrow support after I accidentally sent the wrong chip flying.

The design is a small dovetailed frame, with cross supports that have cavities to hold each tool. There is a cavity for every blade for the double square, plus a place for the square itself. This way I can put the square away regardless of what blade is in it at the moment.

Tracing the dovetails of the cross-supports and checking the layout.

Fortunately, my bench hook provided a nice backstop for chopping out these dovetails.

These must be the easiest kind of dovetails to chop out, since it's long grain and can be approached across the grain. Padauk is fairly tame to work with too, except for occasional splintering.

I noticed along the way that some of the color of padauk is alcohol-soluble. I use grain alcohol often to make endgrain easier to work. When I shot all the parts to length, the padauk streaked my block plane's sole purple! It also made an orange splotch on the maple. On a whim, I decided to dye all the maple this way. I scattered some padauk chips on the maple parts and sprinkled them to the point of mild intoxication, then rubbed the chips all over the parts. It looks weird with all the purple and orange, but I'll take weird over boring any day.

Clearly no other woodworkers were around to stop me.

This is what happens when maple gets drunk with padauk. It could have been worse.

After cleaning up the surfaces and applying one coat of danish oil, I'm ready to put this frame to work.

 The end product is functional, convenient, full of mistakes, and totally weird. So, perfect.

French cleats are done!

I finally finished putting all the french cleats on the wall. Of course, the real challenge wasn't putting a few screws in the wall, it was all the cleaning/organizing I had to do to get to my walls. (Also moving outlets and waiting for paint to dry) I'm glad it's done so I can stay a lot more organized. It also should make it much easier to temporarily clear the floorspace so I can get the concrete flattened (I want to wheel things around).

You see clutter. I see less clutter than before.

While I'm feeling good about having this done, I thought I would share pictures of a few more hangers that may not have appeared on the blog yet. Most of it is crude but functional. I like to get it built quick:

Belt sander resting on a dowel while cord wraps around blocks.

RO sander & cord hanging in notches. This piece of plywood is glued into a groove that I made quickly with a plow plane.

I skipped the classic shelf/pin combo and just went for adjustable dowels to hold my [power] sandpaper. A set of dividers for spacing and a bit of paraffin on each dowel makes this easy.

A hook to hold my jigsaw. Holes for dowels were drilled after the main stack was already glued and dried, since that's the easy way to do this.

My friend Matt made this nice "cup" holder when he was visiting one day. (I was finishing up the cleats). Thanks, Matt!

These weird broom holders work well on pipe clamps because of their slightly rough surface. But I recommend throwing the plastic backer away and using 3 flathead screws for each hook.

I cut up an old shelf (that was on the pre-cleat wall)
 and put cleats on the back. Unlike the others, this one has hooks on it.

A pair of clamp racks doubles as a temporary lumber rack. Hands down the easiest thing I've made for the cleats.

I made this hanging panel with a strip of cleat on the back so I can cut off a piece any time I need another hook.

These are the two jigs that I made to install the cleats. The left one is a spacer, set to 1 foot. With the aid of a small clamp, it was also my third hand when hanging cleats. On the right is a nail in a chunk of cleat with a plumb line hanging on it--it saves a lot of time with the studfinder.