True story, Word of Honor: Joseph Heller, an important and funny writer now dead, and I were at a party given by a billionaire on Shelter Island. I said, “Joe, how does it make you feel to know that our host only yesterday may have made more money than your novel ‘Catch-22’ has earned in its entire history?” And Joe said, “I’ve got something he can never have.” And I said, “What on earth could that be, Joe?” And Joe said, “The knowledge that I’ve got enough.” Not bad! Rest in peace!
What do you get for the woman who already owns all the blue fleeces on the planet?
I’m talking, of course, about Megan Fitzpatrick, who celebrated a birthday on Aug. 7. After much thought, I decided to get her something that would indirectly benefit me. You see, Megan is constantly borrowing my beloved old Stanley No. 5, which I have owned since I started woodworking.
I don’t mind her borrowing it, except when I need to use it. My No. 5 is – far and away – the handplane I use the most. I bought it before I knew a lot about handplanes from a stoner at an open-air market. And it was the best $12 I ever spent.
It’s a Type 11 Stanley plane, which means it was likely made between 1910 and 1918. Stanley made tons of these planes – they aren’t rare. But they are spectacular. Rosewood knob and tote. A frog with lots of bearing surface. And – in general – superb fit and finish.
So I decided to get Megan a Type 11 just like mine, and I pieced one together from a good basic plane and some donor parts. But I decided that wasn’t enough. Megan works hard every day to keep me sane at work.
The sidewalls of my No. 5 plane are engraved with the logo for “The Anarchist’s Tool Chest,” which Catharine Kennedy engraved for me about 11 years ago (she is now retired from engraving). For Megan’s plane, I decided to ask Jenny Bower, who both Megan and I admire greatly.
Jenny agreed (yay!), but she was concerned because she hadn’t engraved the particular metals used in the old Stanleys. What if the lever cap didn’t engrave well? She was concerned she might ruin a valuable and old plane.
Then I told her I’d get another lever cap for $10. And I explained how the tool itself – while spectacular – isn’t rare at all. What was going to make the plane special was the engraving.
We received the finished plane this week, and it is better than photos can convey. Jenny is a hand-engraver, and the results are incredibly three-dimensional. If you ever have thought about getting a tool engraved, I recommend her highly. Check out her Instagram feed to see the sort of work she does (and the fun costumes she makes, too).
During the last 11 years, a lot of people have asked questions about my engraved plane. (My favorite: “Isn’t it amazing that you found an old plane that had already been engraved with the logo from your book?”) The most common question people have is: “Why did you get the plane engraved?”
Usually I make a joke at first: “Now it’s a tax write-off.” But the serious answer goes something like this: “My tools are my ticket to work for myself, outside of the corporate world. They mean the world to me. Engraving a common but incredibly useful tool forces people to regard it differently. When I’m gone, I hope a future owner will pick it up at a flea market and understand just how much this common-as-dirt No. 5 meant to its owner.”
Oh, and if you want to read more about Jenny’s journey as an engraver, woodworker and person, check out this Little Acorns profile Nancy Hiller wrote about her.
One of the bright parts of this year has been working with Aspen Golann and The Chairmaker’s Toolbox to lend a hand to budding toolmakers who are underrepresented in our craft (female, NBG and BIPOC).
My role was tiny: I consulted with Eleanor Rose on developing a fantastic chair devil and a reproduction of the H.O. Studley mallet. Eleanor didn’t need much help from me, but I am happy to shine a light on her work, and I hope we get to work on another project that might become a production tool.
As someone who has handled/fondled/might-have-licked the Studley mallet during photography for “Virtuoso,” I know exactly how the mallet should feel and look, even close up. Eleanor’s version takes a small liberty with the handle material (to save the rosewoods), and she improved an interior structure. I think Studley would be pleased with the result. (I bought two of hers.)
Her chair devil immediately became one of my favorite chairmaking tools. Yes, you can easily make your own, but it won’t look this nice, or have the same nimbleness. Last I heard, Eleanor is still tooling up to make a run of these. You might want to send her a message to let her know you want one. I bought the first sample she sent me.
These German-made sharpeners are exactly what we would make. They are brass, nicely machined and you can purchase replacement blades so the tool will last a lifetime. Plus the price is great, from $8 to $11, depending on the seller.
I love the Mobius+Ruppert 602. It’s a heavy disc of brass that has two holes: one for oversized pencils like ours and another for the more standard-size pencil. The blades come sharp, and the knurled exterior makes it nice to hold while you work.
I also have the M+R 604, which makes a beautiful long bevel on slender pencils (it won’t accept our 3/8”-diameter pencils).
I bought mine from Thackery LLC, though you can find them at many artist supply stores, including Blick, which is also a great place to buy replacement blades.
As always, we are not sponsored by any of these companies. They don’t even know we exist.
The trees on our street. I know the one on the right is a pear. And there’s a red maple on the left. But a few of them were mysteries.
Years ago I was in England with Roy Underhill (no, this is not a Penthouse letter), and we had to walk from our hotel to a restaurant to meet Peter Follansbee (I know this sounds like a woodworker’s wet dream, but, well… OK it was).
Anyway….
It was a long walk, and we had to pass through some woods and walk by a canal. And during the entire walk, Roy is pointing out all the names of the trees and plant life. “That’s a Grimblethorne – punicus polifficus! And look at the size of that Shandyback Fufflenewt tree – you never see them in a stand of three like that. Did you know the Fufflenewt tree was an important player in the Battle of Hastings? And that its bark was ground down in former times to use as a poultice for people suffering from dingleworm?”
And then I realized: I know almost nothing about living trees, except for the obvious species – oak, maple, walnut, locust, cherry. When my kids ask me: “What kind of tree is that?” My standard answer is: “Let’s kill it, and I can tell you.”
If you are like me, there is help for this problem. I recently found an app called Picture This that identifies plant life, and it really, really works. I’ve toyed around with a lot of other apps that identify trees, and none has made me happy.
Picture This is expensive for an app – $30 a year. But during the past week it has brought me more joy than even the weather radar app on my phone (ask Megan about how much I love my radar). I have spent many mornings identifying all the trees and bushes in our Covington neighborhood. And then reading more about them through the app.
Picture This also does a lot of other things that don’t interest me, such as diagnosing plant diseases and suggesting how to care for them. Sorry people, I still just want to kill trees.
The interface is pretty easy to use. While inside the app you point the phone’s camera at the tree and press a button. In a couple seconds it identifies the plant and spits out a bunch of information about it, including how to care for it, where the species grows, poems about it, symbolism it is associated with, etc. etc.
If you think I’m full of it, you can try the app free for seven days.
— Christopher Schwarz
Disclaimer: Nobody paid me for this blog entry. I bought the app with my own damn money. Blah, blah, blah.
