Our March 12 book-release party for “The Anarchist’s Design Book” is fully booked. But that doesn’t mean you can’t see the new storefront if you are in town.
On March 12, my daughters will be womaning the store from 10 a.m. until 6 p.m. while the rest of us are down the street at Braxton Brewing for the Lie-Nielsen Hand Tool Event. Our store, at 9th and Willard streets, is less than a 10-minute walk from Braxton at 7th and Madison.
Katy and Maddy will have all of our titles there and will be happy to have you look around. We’ll also have some special Covington-only merchandise that celebrates the five-year anniversary of “The Anarchist’s Tool Chest.” A special T-shirt, stickers and other stuff we’re working on now.
On Sunday the flooring crew finished installing the new white oak in the storefront and did a sweet job. The joints are tight throughout and I’m happy I spent the extra $900 to install the floor at a 45° slant.
The next stage is sanding and finishing. We’re not staining the floor and are using only an oil-based polyurethane (three coats) on top, which should give us 15 years of hard use.
The details of the floor finish were the most difficult part of the job for me. I’ve worked in shops with smooth wooden floors that made it impossible to do any benchwork because I couldn’t get a firm footing to plane or saw.
The traditional solution to this problem was to sprinkle plaster of Paris on the floor to afford some grip for the workers’ feet. A more modern solution is to sprinkle sand in the finish, either as it is being stirred or right after it is applied.
Neither of those appeals to me. So we are going with the flattest polyurethane available. I asked the flooring guys why flatting paste would improve the traction. They said the transparent silica in the paste is what provided the extra traction.
I’ll let you know if they are correct at the end of the week. By then we’ll be moving tools and benches to the new storefront so I can build the replacement transom windows, new front door and display shelves for the books. That should be a fair test of the transparent silica.
— Christopher Schwarz
P.S. Our March 12 book-release party is completely booked now. If people cancel, I’ll post a note here. Sorry we cannot accommodate more people; we have a maximum occupancy from the fire department.
I’m trying to do as much work on our storefront personally to save money, but there are some things I’ve decided to pay for. Installing the oak floor is one of them.
As you can see from the photos, they’re laying the floor at the same 45° slant as the original floor. And though it cost an extra half-day of labor, I’m glad we did it. When you walk into the front door, the floorboards direct your eye to the bar (which is where our books will be shown on a display I’m building) and the location of my workbench.
The crew should be done laying the floor tomorrow. Then comes the sanding and the finishing (also not by me).
Then I’ll get to jump back in with framing a new office wall and running new electric.
Next week I hope to buy a vintage door I spotted a few weeks ago at an architectural salvage place. It’s from about the same era as the building and has frosted glass and nice details. That will become the door that goes back to the office, bathroom, kitchen and almighty beer fridge.
Whenever people work with me at our new headquarters, I give them this warning: This is a glitter zone. You will find glitter in your hair, clothes and (shudder) feces after you work here.
The good news is that our efforts at glitter containment – it’s worse than asbestos – are succeeding. It has been about a week since I deposited a “Sparkle Pony” in the pool, if you catch my drift. And today we began to cover over the dark blue/purple ceiling of the first floor with white primer.
Tomorrow the floor goes in – solid white oak with a vapor/glitter barrier.
Then we start the framing.
After plying local architect Eric Puryear with tacos and margaritas, he and Megan Fitzpatrick visited the building. All three of us agree that the archway at the back of the front room is awkward and not original to the structure.
Eric put it this way: It was probably put in during the 1930s, 1950s or one of the other periods where exposed brick became fashionable.
We’re keeping the arch, but we’re going to build a wall obscuring it from the front room. Based on my archaeological pokings, I think the back wall of the bar was co-planar to the stairs. So that’s what we’re putting in – along with some vintage doors.
The little nook between the arch and this new wall will be a sharpening area or an office. Still working that out.
OK, kids are hungry. Got to take off the shop apron and put on my cooking one.
Sorry for all the storefront posts. I’ll be back in the shop tomorrow to build chests and such.
Several people have asked where the idea came from to buy a storefront in Covington, Ky., and move our business and lives there.
The answer is the building above. It’s at the corner of Pike and Madison streets, the commercial center of the city. My wife’s family owned the Grote Drug store there — plus the Super D pharmacy down the road. My mother in law worked there. My father in law. My wife. And many of her relatives going back to the point where the names are unfamiliar to me (even after 23 years of marriage).
Like many businesses in Covington, the bottom fell out as commerce moved to suburban Florence. The family drugstores closed. And the family lost everything.
That event, while terrible, also instilled in Lucy a sense of financial levelheaded-ness and an acumen for revenge.
How could I not fall in love with that?
Though we’ve always been writers with lame salaries, we never went into debt. And when our kids grew up, we resolved together to move to Covington and run our business there. Completing the circle.
We’ve been looking for a building for four years — this wasn’t a lark. And when we toured the Blaze at 837 Willard St. We knew. We put in an offer that same day.
And now the hard part begins — making it our final nesting place.
I’m typing this while covered head to toe with grime at Braxton Brewing, the brewery down the road from us. And as I walked here with a mighty thirst I passed a lot of other people with the same idea that we had. Tech startups. Design firms. Artist studios. And the stores that survived the crash (thank you Klingenberg’s hardware).
We hope you can stop by sometime after we open in March and get a small taste of this up-and-coming city.
