If you write hilarious T-shirt slogans and have some hand saws with loose nuts (and who doesn't) then read on.

We're giving away three custom split-nut drivers made using the Pin-Eez tool. (If it doesn't sound like I'm typing English here, read this blog entry and it will all make sense.) The manufacturer of the Pin-Eez gave me these three tools last week to thank me for my blog entry.

So what do you have to do to win this fabulous split-nut driver? Be hilarious. We're trolling around for the next slogan to put on the back of our Lost Art Press T-shirts. We sold out of the ones that read "Rude Mechanicks Since 1678." Our latest T-shirt features the slogan "Boring Since 1678." Click here to see that shirt.

The slogan has to be short – six words or less. And it has to relate (obviously) to woodworking, hand tools, beer drinking, Joseph Moxon, Andre Roubo – or preferably all of those at once.

Here is how you enter: Simply post your slogan as a comment at the end of this blog entry before midnight, Friday, Feb. 6. Be sure to include an e-mail address so we can contact you. (This isn't a scam to collect your e-mail addresses; we're not that sophisticated.)

We'll pick our three favorite slogans and announce the three winners on Feb. 7. Each winner will receive a split-nut driver and a T-shirt with the current slogan.  

— Christopher Schwarz

As mentioned in my last post, I set my tools at the proper angle in my honing guides by sighting the tools against a little block of wood that is marked with the various angles I use.

As I prepared to sharpen my smoothing plane iron this morning, I took some photos so you could see how I do this quickly, accurately and without getting sliced open like a hog's jugular.

First, a word about honing guides. In addition to the small Kell honing guide I use for chisels, I use an Eclipse 36 guide for plane irons. The Eclipse 36 was the DNA for the $10 to $15 Taiwanese honing guides in every catalog today. But like a photocopy, the Taiwanese versions aren't as sharp as the original.

In general, the paint on the Taiwanese guides is too thick and pools where you don't want it to (especially in the dovetailed ways that are designed to hold chisels). Plus, the copies don't hold tools as firmly because things just don't line up like they do on the Eclipse.

As I've seen hundreds of honing guides in my 13 years at Popular Woodworking; and my opinion on this is as firm as my love for Belgian ales.

Here's the part where you hate me. It appears the Eclipse 36 is no longer made. (If I'm wrong here, give me a shout.) I bought mine from Highland Hardware, but that catalog no longer carries it. All my other searches for a U.S. supplier have turned up naught.

If you're a little cracked (like me), then I recommend you search eBay's United Kingdom site. They turn up there frequently, even guides that are new in the box.

Setting the Tool in the Guide
The first step is to position your little block of wood perfectly flush to the end of your bench. Use your fingertips – this will get you within a thousandth of an inch.

Now secure the tool in the guide but clamp its jaws loosely on the tool. You want to be able to shift the guide forward and back on the tool with finger pressure. But you don't want the guide to fall off.

Place the guide on your benchtop and roll the edge up to the end of your bench. Place the fingers of your right hand on top of the tool and press down. Move the edge of the tool to the end of the benchtop as shown in the photo. I have never cut myself through three (now four) presidential administrations.

With your left hand, push the honing guide forward (or back) until the tool lines up with the angled line on your block. For plane irons, I grind the bevel at 25° and sharpen a 35° secondary bevel. So I'm lining up the tool with the 35° line.

Now take your left hand and tighten the guide enough to lock your setting. Then use a screwdriver to really lock the sucker down. Then get to sharpening.

— Christopher Schwarz

As mentioned in another blog I have been trying to get productive. I am working on the legs of two Welsh Stick chairs with a "Lord of the Rings" touch. I made the legs out of very dry white oak and tapered them on the band saw. I did this before, so I know that I want to be approximately 1-3/4" wide a the bottom of the leg and 1-1/8" at a point that is 3" down from the top of the leg. The length of the leg is 19-1/2".

OK, here is the deal. I am using a tapered reamer and a tapered tenon maker from Lee Valley. You can see the tapered tenon maker in the picture above. They are sized to work with each other, i.e. the tenon will fit into the tapered mortise. This is the ideal chair joint. As chairmaker David Fleming pointed out (and I am sure others did as well), when you sit in the chair it makes the joint tighter. The opening of the taper tool is 1-1/4" it is 3" long. If the wood won't clear the opening it won't make it to the cutter and the thing won't work.

Tapering to 1-1/4" on the band saw was not a problem for four sides. The problem came in on the diagonal which of course was not 1-1/4" and jamming up the works. So, I did what every hand tool enthusiast does, grabbed a jack plane, set it to take a huge cut and worked up a sweat! After leg three I had a Jethro moment.  Like the time he told Uncle Jed how hard it was carrying heavy sacks from the back of the house to the truck which was at the front of the house. Uncle Jed asked him, “Why don’t you drive the truck around back?” I made a jig. There is masking tape on the jig because, as I now know, the jig needed to be tapered. I learned this after I made it....

OK, the picture above is what I am trying to get to. Make a tapered square into a tapered hexagon.

Here is the tapered tenon cutter in action. It is like a pencil sharpener. 

- John Hoffman

 

My day job at a woodworking magazine forces me to try out new sharpening equipment all the time, which drives me bonkers. No matter how long you have been sharpening, it takes some time to get tuned into a new stone or guide or system.

However, sometimes all this agony results in some ecstasy.

For example, I've become fond of the small Kell honing guide for chisels. No honing guide I've ever used can produce such accurate edges. Why? Two reasons. The jig clamps from the sides, which prevents your chisel from shifting. However, my old Eclipse-style guide also clamps from the sides. So what's the big deal?

Where the Kell excels is that you can secure the chisel with its unbeveled face against the Kell's guide bars. Brilliant. While my Eclipse guide tends to make my chisels twist, the Kell does not. As a result, it's far easier to hone a straight secondary bevel on chisels (and on straight irons for joinery planes).

The irony about the Kell is that I was introduced to the guide by Joel Moskowitz, the owner of Tools for Working Wood. Joel is an advocate of freehand sharpening. But now I've even more attached to my honing guides because of him. Thanks Joel!

My other favorite bit of sharpening equipment is the little block of wood shown in the photo. I mark common honing angles on it using my daughter's protractor. Then I set it on the end of my bench and use it to set the chisel to the proper angle for sharpening in the guide.

I have tried myriad devices and techniques for setting angles. I have marked up my workbench with dozens of lines for setting a wide variety of irons to a wide variety of angles. Nothing works as simple and brilliantly as a direct reading from my block of wood. And it's portable and I never – ever – have to compensate for the thickness of a tool or its taper.

I had to make up this new block of wood recently because I lost my old one at Kelly Mehler's School of Woodworking. My old one was fancier – it had the radius of my fore plane's blade shaped into the back end. That way I could just trace the shape onto a fore plane blade and grind to the line.

— Christopher Schwarz

Ok I am getting caught up on some woodworking projects.  I have been closing the books for Lost Art Press and getting ready for tax filings…It is surprising how much non-woodworking tasks there are to do in a woodworking business.  I digress.

As promised here is a pic of the Veritas Skew Rabbet plane aka moving fillister, in action.  A Rabbet is a recess with two open sides that is cut with the grain.  A fillister is a cross grain rabbet.  Just like a groove is with the grain and a dado is across the grain.  The moving fillister has a fence to allow for adjustment of the fillister. 

Anyway, the plane works great as you can see.  The wood is figured maple and I didn’t even have the nicker (the blade that slices the wood fibers ahead of the blade) in place.  It was adjusted out of the way when I put the plane back into the cabinet and forgot to set it when I started planing for this picture.

The next pic is an attachment I made for the shooting board so I could fine tune the miter cuts on some boxes I am making.  I took a couple of pieces of a pine 2x12 left over from the trestle table I built.  I band sawed them to shape, glued them together and added a fence. Crude but it works.  I just clamp it onto the shooting board and have at it.  The bar of the clamp is a bit in the way but I will try another clamp or something.

My to do list includes replacing a number of wooden pieces for my brother’s parquet floor, legging up a chair, and trying to get a jewelry box done.  I also got called from a friend who wants help framing his basement and build  a bar and a co-worker who wants shelves built for her new house.  What I want to do is build the Massachusetts Block Front Chest that Glen Huey made.  Don’t we all get grabbed when someone finds out we woodwork?  Yes, I would like to help out but I still have a lot of painting to do in my house not to mention installing a hardwood floor and winning the super bowl on my Xbox 360.  Heck, that doesn’t take into account all the hi-def cable channels and the new blue ray player!  But I digress again…Back to work!

-John Hoffman

Like most woodworkers, I learn a lot about the craft while building projects. What’s surprising is how much I learn about the craft after the project is completed and put to use.

Most of the projects I build for Woodworking Magazine and Popular Woodworking end up in the hands of friends, family and the employees of the publishing company I work for. (The employees have to pay only for the cost of materials – a sweet benefit.)

But I have quite a few of the prototypes in our house, including our dining room table, which was a project featured on the cover of the Autumn 2006 issue. I’d built the prototype in December 2005, so it has now seen at least 1,000 meals. And it has taught me at least five important lessons.

1. Trust antique designs. This table’s proportions, lines and joinery were all taken from antique Shaker and early American forms featured in Wallace Nutting’s “Furniture of the Pilgrim Century, 1620-1720” (Download the entire book for free here.) The table weighs very little; my 7-year-old daughter can lift one end of the 8’-long table with one hand. Yet it is unbelievably sturdy; my 7-year-old routinely vaults herself off the breadboard ends. My wife soils herself every time. I just smile.

2. Leave appropriate toolmarks. I flattened the underside of the tabletop by traversing it with a fore plane. It has deep, regularly spaced scallops across it. I left them there, and I’m so glad I did. Every evening my fingers ride the scallops on the underside, and it’s my favorite aspect of the table.

3. Thin breadboards are good. Because I was worried about my kids vaulting off the ends of this table (a well-founded fear apparently), I decided to make the breadboard tongues 3/8” thick instead of 1/4” or 5/16” thick (the top itself is about 7/8”). That was a mistake. Not only did it make construction more difficult because the mortise walls were so thin, it also made the ends of the breadboards more fragile. One of the corners chipped out during a pre-teen dance party.

4. The finish is never finished. The tabletop has taken a beating. Even though I thought I’d applied enough coats of lacquer, it probably would look better today if I’d applied a couple more. Oh well. If the tabletop gets so beat up that it looks like crap, I’ll refinish it. Refinishing is part of the life of many pieces of furniture.

5. Wedged tenons are as incredible as dovetails. I am stunned at how tight the joinery is everywhere on the base thanks to the wedged tenons. My kids have done everything in their power to tear this table apart.

I can see that the light is failing outside my window. That means it’s time to go downstairs and start making dinner and see if I get another lesson in woodworking from the thing that holds the plates.

— Christopher Schwarz

Well, I got my first commission, sort of.  I mean I was asked to make something for free.  A friend wanted something that would cover an outlet in their kitchen.  They used the outlet to plug in a number of devices like cell phones and a clock radio.  They wanted a box that would allow the cords to come out and they needed to be able to remove the box from time to time.  And….they wanted it to match their existing cabinets.

This was great since I have never made anything this small.  I have spent my time making large cabinets for computers and tv’s.  I also have some great curly maple sitting in my shop begging to become jewelry boxes, so this was a chance to practice.  I recently took the plunge and bought a moving fillister from Lee Valley.  I got a discount from being at the Woodworking in America conference.   I have a Record Rapier plow plane which works great, so the moving fillister was the next big thing.  With these two planes I was able to plow the groove for the top panel to sit in and I used the moving fillister to raise the panel. 

 

The first task was to decide on the thickness of the parts.   I decided to try and get close to ¼ inch in thickness as I thought anything thicker would make the box to heavy looking.  Since the thickness was going to be ¼ inch, I decided dovetails would not be the thing to do.  While writing that sentence, I am thinking I could have done dovetails couldn’t I???  Well, anyway, I did mitre joints, on the table saw.  I wanted to clean them up on my shooting board but the mitre attachment is not right to hold the work in place.  Chris suggested a Donkey’s Ear, I heard Donkey’s Ass, and took it as a reference to my work…Well I got straighten out and will make one soon. 

 

Anyway, here is a picture of the box.  I left the bottom of the box open; see pic below.  I say bottom when looking at the box mounted on the wall.  Not sure if “bottom” is the correct term for this part.  Sorry to confuse.  It is one side of the piece that is a different width.  Now the electric cords can pass through the box onto the counter.  I used a French Cleat to hang the box so it can be removed easily.  I didn’t spline the mitres, just glue.  I did reinforce them with a very small glue block however they were surprisingly strong with just glue. 

 

One last thing.  I proudly gave the box to my friend who seemed impressed.  He had it with him the next day at work.  Yup, I made it a hair to small, so I quickly made another.

 

- John

Thomas Lie-Nielsen sidled up to me with a drink in his hand, a sportscoat on his back and a sly look across his face.

He opened his green jacket to reveal… a stick.

I repressed my urge to pluck it from his jacket because I stank like a monkey’s armpit after hauling four workbenches all over the campus of Berea College for our Woodworking in America conference.

But Thomas (who raises horses and must be accustomed to large, malodorous hairy things) nodded that it was OK for me to grab the stick. I did. Then I squealed like a little girl.

It was a brass Warrington hammer and looked just like my favorite hammer of all time, the little guy shown at the top of this blog entry. I use the round end of this hammer for adjusting all my planes. A few subtle hammer taps adjust the lateral position of my iron with more accuracy than any lateral-adjust mechanism.

I’ll also use the round end to advance the irons of my planes that don't have mechanical adjusters. Oh, and I drive small pins with this end, too.

The flat end, called the “cross pane,” is ideal for starting nails. You pinch the nail with your fingers and use the cross pane to sneak through your fingertips to strike the nail’s head. Very handy.

There are probably 100 other uses for this little hammer because I take it with me whenever I travel with my tools.

So here’s the news: Lie-Nielsen Toolworks is going to begin making this hammer in both steel and brass. I don’t have information on pricing or availability, but who cares? I’m getting a set (or two) the minute they come out.

You see, I have a hammer problem. I probably have 20 or more of them, all different. Most of them came into my hands when I wrote about hammers for Woodworking Magazine a few years back, but for some reason I can’t seem to get rid of them.

But the Warrington’s size and weight have made it my favorite shop hammer (followed quickly by my 16-ounce Maydole hammer). And soon – thanks to Lie-Nielsen – you are going to be able to see if you agree with my assessment.

— Christopher Schwarz

All I'm saying about this photo is that I'm glad it's not scratch 'n' sniff.

This is a picture that my wife told me to get or not come home! Nice to have that kind of support. I don’t know how the kids would feel about her statement since my youngest is the only one that has ever said “no mommy, don’t kick daddy out!” Why tempt fate? So I made sure I got the photo.

This picture is of the second night at the Woodworking in America conference. I was un-stressing from the day. My first assignment was to introduce Mr. Michael Dunbar. Yes, that Mr. Dunbar. A person of legend whom I have never met. I hope I didn’t mess it up. On Sunday, I was slotted to introduce Mr. Frank Klausz another legend I have never met. After hearing him answer a question with “because that is stupid!” I was glad I called him "Mr." Klausz.

One of the great benefits of being Chris’s apprentice is being able to help out and go to these events. WIA was spot-on fantastic. It was hard to pick which seminar to go to. On day two, I was privileged to introduce Brian Boggs. Wow!  I had no idea of how much there is know about wood. I sat in awe as he explained things about wood that I had never heard before.  Hearing the meticulous way he monitors wood moisture and applies hide glue twice, it is no wonder his chairs don’t come apart. In fact one of the people asked him about joint failure on his chairs, to wit he said with sincere humility, I don’t know because I have never had a chair come back.

I got to hear about 18th century chisels from Adam Cherubini and watch him use his four-foot  plus bowsaw. He had to look behind him before sawing so he didn’t take someone out. I watched an attendee from Idaho round the corner and spy Adam. Her mouth opened and her camera came out. I bet that picture was a keeper.

Last but not least is my new international drinking partner, Phil from Phillyplanes in the UK, which reminds me of the only downside to the event. The 8 a.m. starting time.…

— John Hoffman

Sometimes when I look at old pieces of furniture, I can convince myself that perhaps old-growth timber is like melamine. It just doesn’t move with the seasons like modern wood does.

What else can explain the survival of so many pieces of furniture that defy the holy writ of hygroscopic activity? Tabletops are vigorously nailed to aprons without splitting. Stretchers and sides of sideboards have grain that runs contrary – the joinery should have pulled itself apart but it’s still tight. Wide backs that should have expanded and torn apart a carcase are still perfectly fitted.

Sometimes I think we over-engineer our projects to accommodate problems that will never happen.

This week I’m building a dry sink based on a circa 1770 Connecticut piece, and I’m torn between building the piece as it was originally made and building it to compensate for seasonal wood movement.

For example: The 26” x 26 door on the front of the original is made from two wide planks that are joined with a tongue-and-groove joint and battens. When I created my construction drawing in CAD, I drew it as a frame-and-panel door instead. I calculated that a 26”-wide plank door is going to move almost 1/4".

As I milled out the sweet-smelling Eastern white pine, however, I found that I had two 14”-wide clear boards that would make a door that looked just like the original. I held up the two boards and said: It’s worth the risk. The project will look better with a primitive wide-plank door.

Then came the problem with the top and the splash. On the original, the 26”-wide top is captured on all four edges by splash pieces that are nailed on. The top should have split or blown apart the splash, but it hasn’t.

I considered building it like the original, but I decided against it. I’m going to make the top so it floats in a groove in the splash pieces – basically like a solid-wood drawer. The end result will be indistinguishable from the original (except from the back), so I think that is a decision I can live with.

And then there are the hinges. The original has strap hinges on the door, but they are clearly later additions. But I have no idea what the original hinges looked like. And I like the strap hinges. So iron strap hinges are on order and in the mail.

And when the time comes to nail the living snot out of the piece, well, we’ll have to see what happens then.

— Christopher Schwarz