Category: Personal Favorites

For the last four months I have been working out of two shops – my shop at home and my shop at our new storefront. I don’t want to buy a second set of tools during this transition period, and so I have been ferrying my tools back and forth in a Trusco tool box from Hand-Eye Supply.

I never thought I could love a metal toolbox. After all, I make several varieties of wooden tool chests as part of my living. But after a month with this Trusco, I can officially say I am totally and completely in love with it.

The Japanese-made Trusco looks like a jewel with its semi-translucent paint job. And it works like a jewelry box when you spread the top leaves of the lid open to reveal the trays and lower storage area. We owned a toolbox similar to this on our farm, but it was a herky-jerky affair and a struggle to open and close it.

Inside, the Trusco has movable dividers in its trays so you can quickly reconfigure the box for tools of different sizes. This is not a dumb feature – I move these things all the time depending on the tools I’m transporting that day.

Most of all, I love how dang tough the thing is. It’s thick sheet metal – just the right gauge so it can take a hit but not so thick that it adds significant weight. All the parts fit seamlessly and move smoothly. I frankly cannot understand how they made this thing for this price.

If you need a toolbox for moving your stuff, or something to hold your mechanic’s tools for working on machinery, click forth and buy.

— Christopher Schwarz

P.S. In the interest of full disclosure, Hand-Eye Supply approached us recently about distributing our books. However, I’ve never received anything free or at a discount from them. In fact, they have way too much of my money.

If I ever have a motto painted above the door of my shop, it will be: If you have to ask the question, then you know the answer.

Today I glued up a large tabletop – almost 8’ long – out of four boards. When I get into panels this large, I use a biscuit joiner, Domino or doweling jig to keep the boards aligned during glue-up.

Everything went swimmingly until the clamps went on. Apparently I had knocked the fence of my Domino while cutting the joints and hadn’t noticed. The boards in the middle seam were out by 1/32”.

With a large tabletop, that misalignment will equal an extra hour or more of hard handplaning in reverse-grain white maple.

As soon as I wiped away the glue I asked myself: Do I need to redo that joint?

The question was the only answer I needed. This evening I will rip the panel in two and try again.

When I was a beginning woodworker I used to wrestle with problems like this. I’d fool myself into thinking I could overcome the error. Or I’d put off the decision – then get up at 2 a.m., go down to the shop and examine the work in my underwear. (And I wonder why we are never invited to our neighborhood BBQ’s?)

Now I just make the decision and plow forward, even it’s the hard road.

And I sleep a lot better, too.

— Christopher Schwarz

There are just 32 days until the Lie-Nielsen Hand Tool Event at Braxton Brewing Co. in Covington, Ky., and it promises to be one of the more interesting ones I’ve ever attended.

For starters, look who is going to be there on March 11-12, in addition to the always-strong Lie-Nielsen staff:

Konrad Sauer of Sauer & Steiner Toolworks.
Scott Meek of Scott Meek Woodworks.
Raney Nelson of Daed Toolworks.
Caleb James of Caleb James, Planemaker.
Steve Voigt of Voigt Planes.
Mateo Panzica of The Lazarus Handplane Co.
Aaron Moore of Walke Moore Tools.
George Walker of “Design Matters” and “By Hound & Eye.”
Megan Fitzpatrick of Popular Woodworking Magazine.
Plus, John and me from Lost Art Press.

Could it get any wilder? Yes, it could.

I’ve just received confirmation that David Savage, one of the United Kingdom’s leading designers and makers, is flying in for the show and our book release party at our new storefront. This is David’s first trip to Cincinnati, I believe, and so we plan to destroy his good health with lots of bourbon and succulent swine.

Oh, the beer at Braxton is incredibly good, and the brewery is stumbling distance from the Lost Art Press storefront (what a coincidence).

So if you are in the market for a plane or want to bend the ear of Mr. Savage or Mr. Walker on furniture design, don’t miss this show. It’s free.

This week I’ll start posting a list of where to stay and eat. Cincinnatians are passionate about good food, good alcohol and hospitality. And there are lots of places to send your family while you guzzle beer and play with some incredible tools.

— Christopher Schwarz

After weeks of ripping the interior of our new building to shreds, we’re finally starting to put the pieces back together in an 1890 fashion.

Last month we ripped out 30 cubic yards of “improvements” to the Lost Art Press headquarters, including miles of wiring (that we completely recycled), rotted, black and crumbling subfloor (to the landfill) and ridiculous stud walls and 1995-era bar construction (mixed – we recycled what we could).

Today the plastering started.

We’re using a secret late-Victorian recipe that uses Plaster of Versailles (Versailles, Ky., not that cheap crap from Paris, Ky.) and Boba Fett tears. Plus a bit of Seattle Cement (Portland Cement is for weenies).

Lucky for us we managed to salvage about 95 percent of the original plaster on the walls. We had a small section that had to be drywalled because there was no lath. (And no money for lath.) So we expect to restore the interior as close as possible to the 1890 interior.

Meanwhile, I’m designing the entry door and transom windows that will replace gaping holes now filled with plywood and a cheap window AC unit. Because we are in an historic district, all my designs have to be approved by the city’s historic preservation staff and appointees.

Tomorrow we meet with window contractors to do some work that I don’t have the time for. I’m bringing my wife, Lucy, because buying windows is like buying used cars. I’ve had to chase off a few vinyl salesmen with a broom during the last 20 years. If you sell vinyl windows, I’m sorry (sorry that you sell vinyl windows).

I also need to meet with a kidney salesman. We need traditional solid-wood oak floors and I have an extra kidney.

And now back to editing and growing that third kidney.

— Christopher Schwarz