The Lost Art Press storefront will be open 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. Saturday, April 8, and we welcome you and your woodworking questions.
This weekend, I’ll probably build another staked stool (I have the parts prepped) and perhaps demonstrate the charring technique I showed in yesterday’s post. Also, we have the press mockup of “Roman Workbenches,” which you are welcome to look through. The book is at the bindery now.
We don’t, however, have any blemished books on hand to sell. The Lie-Nielsen event last month cleaned us out.
Need a list of where to eat and drink during your visit? Here you go.
Above is a photo I took of our storefront this morning as I got to work. Notice anything different? Me neither.
But we have a new roof on 837 Willard St., which took almost 10 months of wrangling and four roofing companies to complete. We removed four ersatz skylights, added a hatch to the roof (who doesn’t want a hatch?) and now we don’t have buckets located strategically throughout the third floor.
To celebrate, Lucy and I want to Pontiac barbecue last night and ate a cow.
This is the end of phase one of the work we are doing on the building. Phase one was about stabilizing the structure – concrete and French drains in the basement, new gutters, repair the deck, replace the rotting fence, caulk and paint the exterior, install a sump pump, new windows on the first floor and a new roof. Oh, and gutting the first floor for my workshop.
All that took about 18 months, hundreds of hours of work and more money than most families spend on a college education. And as our personal bank balance veered toward zero this winter, we began to get stressed. Luckily, a couple commissions and articles came through and we are back in the black.
The plan now is to take the next 12 months to work on the cosmetic stuff that doesn’t cost much money or require professional help. I’m going to install a new back door to the shop ($400), install a floating floor in the utility area ($385) and start demolishing the interior walls in the Horse Garage for the machine room (cost: paying for beer for my friends).
Oh, and I’m going to enjoy not writing huge checks for a while (knock wood that there is no Godzilla attack this spring).
A couple weeks after starting to wreck the interior of The Blaze bar in 2015, I had a moment where I thought I should go see the doctor.
This is embarrassing and personal, but there’s only one way to say it: My night soil sparkled.
After a few anxious moments, I made the logical conclusion that I was taking in too much glitter during the demolition. You might think I’m exaggerating, but every painted surface was covered in glitter. It would become airborne – weaponized glitter – as I tore out the painted walls, floors, tiles and bars that ringed all of the rooms.
I wore a mask when I could, but it must have sneaked in through the beard, into my saliva and then, like Raquel Welch, coursed through my entire being.
Today, 18 months after taking ownership of this building, we hauled out the last of the glitter-covered tiles from the utility area at the back of the building.
I won’t say that we are free of glitter (it’s like herpes don’t ya know) but we have no more active glitter-containment protocols. No more glitter Superfund site. It’s been (I hope) remediated.
The Lost Art Press storefront will be open from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. on Saturday, Feb. 11, with John, Raney and me dressed as our favorite Pokemon. Later, there will be a magic show.
We’ll also have books – our entire line – plus a bunch of blemished books for 50 percent off retail (cash only on blems). We also have some extra T-shirts (all unworn and maggot-free) that have been returned to us at big savings.
You can also come check out my new basement. During the last couple weeks the dirt-floored cellar has been dug out. Workers have installed a drainage system in case it ever floods (we’ve not seen any water in 18 months). Right now they are pouring a concrete floor so I will have something I’ve never had before: A place to store lumber.
Because of our tight quarters in our old house, I’ve always been a “just in time” lumber guy. The approach has its advantages, but there have been times I’ve declined to snatch up some incredible lumber. No more. The new basement will be humidity- and temperature-controlled and dedicated to wood.
I’m also in the throes of building some new chair designs. Some are working. Some aren’t. And you can help me chop up the failures and burn them.
As always, we offer you these open days as a place to come visit, hang out and ask any questions. We’re happy to point you to good food and drink and demonstrate anything from our books that is vexing.
During the last few open days, we’ve had people from as far away as Utah, Austin, Atlanta and elsewhere stop in with their spouses. Covington and Cincinnati are great cities with lots of stuff to do, an endless list of good food (especially if you like pork) and culture. And it’s a cheap trip.
The next open house (March 11) will correspond with a massive Lie-Nielsen Hand Tool Event at Braxton Brewing down the street from us. We’re planning stuff and hope to have some details in the next week or so.
Just a quick reminder that we will be open from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. Saturday to sell books and talk woodworking at our headquarters: 837 Willard St. in Covington, Ky.
We have our full line of books here, plus lots of T-shirts, stickers and posters – including some letterpress “Anarchist’s Tool Chest Posters” that I just dug up. And we also have about 13 blemished or returned books that are half price (cash only), including a few copies of the standard edition of “Roubo on Marquetry.”
