All told then, it is quite a good idea to remember the advice of Dr. Primrose in “The Vicar of Wakefield,” who chose his wife on account of her good wearing qualities. Possibly it will not give you the immediate thrill that something rather more flamboyant would have done, but in the long run you will be the better pleased.
— The Woodworker, January 1955
The industrial system has brought with it tremendous advantages. It means we are living at a far higher standard of comfort than our forefathers, and with far more leisure. But it is always working towards uniformity, the dead level only minimizes costs and increases output.
If we are going not only to acquiesce but to follow blindly where it leads, then we shall get standardization – and deserve it.
If we, as craftsmen, still keep our judgments keen and our tastes discriminating; if, that is to say, we persist in being individuals still, we can do something to stem the tide. But those children, who have gone out into the very heart of their own land and seen for themselves, and weighed things in the balance as children do, I think they will do even more.
— The Woodworker, April 1940
To be a man is to be responsible: To be ashamed of miseries you did not cause; to be proud of your comrades’ victories; to be aware, when setting one stone, that you are building a world.
— Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, (1900-1944) French writer, aviator, from “Terre des Hommes” (1939).
In fact it might be said that one cannot do good woodwork and think about the war at the same time. Most readers, of course, have found this out for themselves. When war first came our postbag brought us countless stories from readers, telling us of the wonderful relief they had found in just getting on with their jobs. And in the present violent phase of the struggle calmness comes to those who carry on quietly with their hobbies.
— The Woodworker, July 1940
It’s a good thing my wife doesn’t read my blog because what I’m about to tell you would probably force me into sleeping on the couch for a week.
I’ve always wanted a tattoo. I don’t know why. It must be the redneck in me.
Today I got the next best thing to a tattoo. I received my beloved Type 11 Stanley No. 5 plane in the mail after letting engraver Catharine Kennedy have her way with it. I asked her if she could engrave the shape of the English layout square that is the motif in my upcoming book “The Anarchist’s Tool Chest” on the sidewalls of the plane.
You know, something simple.
But like tattoos, things got out of hand quickly. After Kennedy sent me some sketches I went for the full-blown scrolls on both sidewalls that you can see here.
The work is simply stunning. I am a decent photographer, but I just cannot do justice to her work. The level of detail on the scrolls – each one is beveled on the inside like it was done with a V-tool – is intoxicating. And unlike the “engraving” you see on trophies or anniversary plates, this engraving is deep and obviously done by hand.
The engraving job cost me $350, and now that I’ve blogged about it I can write it off in 2010. Yes, I know you hate me for that. I hate me, too.
You are going to be seeing a lot of this tool on this blog and my blog at work so I hope you like it as much as I do.
To see more of Kennedy’s work, view her impressive woodworking resume and to discuss an engraving job with her, visit her web site at catharinekennedy.com.
— Christopher Schwarz
