If you seek to improve your mind during these trying times, Ed Sutton at FirstLightWorks has an excellent diversion for you: a free downloadable sector and instruction sheet.
To get started, click here to visit the page at FirstLightWorks where you can download the plan for the sector and the instructions. Then you just have to print it out, cut it out, assemble it and take it for a spin.
Make a Tree from a Map: New York City (light) and Melbourne (dark).
Many a woodworker, no matter the season, can identify every tree in their yard and neighborhood. You recognize and value trees for the wood they provide for your shop and also their role in improving our environment. Part of the craft of woodworking is that many of will also be citizen scientists, both in your knowledge of, and protection of trees. Street (or public) tree maps are another resource to learn more about trees, enhance your enjoyment of your community and can be another sort of travel map.
Although most of the following maps are for large cities, there are many smaller cities that have tree maps and inventories and there are many more cities looking for volunteers to help map trees. Every map is a document to help educate the public about the benefit of trees in the community, how trees are cared for, why and how more trees will be planted and how the public will help.
How do these maps work?
This is the tree map for Singapore. After zooming in I selected a tree (blue arrow) to find out what it is.
This is the information about the tree I selected. It is a Jemerlang Laut known by several other names including the Yellow Flame. As you can see it is native to Singapore and is critically endangered. The pruning schedule is cut off, however, it is due for a “haircut” in the second quarter of 2020.
From the photo gallery you can see the leaves and flowers. These are some of the options to be found on street tree maps. Singapore’s map can be found here.
The sidebar on New York City’s map provides statistics, recent tree activity (pruning, litter clean-up, damage) and the ecological benefits of trees (water savings, energy savings). There are options to report problems and also plans for plantings and removals. This map also let’s you search for a specific location. New York City’s map can be found here.
One of the delights of opening a tree map is the color schemes you will encounter and Melbourne doesn’t disappoint. Part of Melbourne’s planting scheme involves identifying where the most vulnerable residents are, the tree canopy density is low and which streets are hottest in summer. Melbourne’s Urban Forest map can be found here.
What is all that pink on London’s map? Plane trees. London Plane trees. What is New York City’s most common tree? London Plane tree. The current map shows 700,000 trees, however, it is estimated there are over eight million trees in London. That is a lot of mapping still to do. You can find London’s map here.
As you zoom in and the color dots start getting a bit further apart it is easier to pinpoint an individual tree. The information boxes for each tree will vary. Amsterdam’s map provides a full plate of information including when the tree was planted. The planting date combined with the expected life span of tree species in the urban environment is used to plan for future replacement. For the ecologist it is a data point of use in studying a tree species in the complicated urban environment. Amsterdam’s tree map is here.
Montreal’s trees are plotted over a satellite image of the city (you can see your own street and house). In this screen shot the color legend really highlights how the same tree species was planted on long stretches of a street (this is not unique to Montreal). As the climates in our cities change what will be the effect on the lack of tree diversity on a particular street? This is another use for tree maps. You can find Montreal’s map here.
Some Special Features and Options
The next few examples have options that might not be available on all maps.
Vancouver allows the selection of four parameters (either individually or in combination) needed for studying trees: age, diameter, height and species. Wowee! In the above screen shot I selected one parameter: trees between 50 ft-100 ft in height.
In this second screen shot I selected trees with a diameter between 50 and 150 inches. Vancouver’s map can be found here.
Another set of trees you might find in a map are heritage trees. Seattle’s tree map includes heritage trees (in orange) and reminds the viewer the trees may be on private land, in a park or be a street tree. As this map notes, a heritage tree is “distinguished by botanical, historic or landmark significance such as size, age or uniqueness.” Seattle’s map can be found here.
This is a map of the flowering trees of Washington D.C. (provided by Casey Trees a non-profit group involved in restoring and protecting the tree canopy of the city). Peak cherry blossom time happens to right now (March 21-24). The map is for the 2019 season but should still be good. The flowering tree map can be found here.
I did not search every tree on every map so perhaps not all cities record stumps. St. Louis (birthplace of the founder of the blog) recorded tree stumps. I commend the thoroughness of the fine mappers of the Show Me State. The St. Louis map can be found here.
“On, Wisconsin!”
Wisconsin has a state tree map. When the map is opened find the community list, make your selection and it will take you there. The tree species list scrolls up and down to help the viewer identify the trees. The screen shows Green Bay. The Wisconsin map can be found here.
By the way, Wisconsin is the leading manufacturer of paper products in the United States. Paper products includes the very precious commodity we call toilet paper. Green Bay is the toilet paper capital of the world (should that be capitalized?). If a state can map all the trees in its communities I am confident they are running at full capacity to manufacture and supply all those in need of toilet paper in these very trying times. We will have our toilet paper and we will be OK.
Stuck at Home
Not everyone reading this blog can leave their homes unless it is to find and buy essential items. The luxury of a neighborhood stroll to find and identify your local trees is limited or not possible. Instead, zoom in and take a virtual walk or plan a walk in a city you want to visit in the future. Make a mini-map of your neighborhood or favorite park.
Michael Natale, resident of New York’s East Village, made this map over a period of 4 years. He photographed and gathered information on 550 trees. Your map doesn’t have to be this detailed.
Tree maps will go with me on future travels. In the interim the maps are providing some interesting patterns on paper. So, for now it is by hand and eye and origami.
As we near the home stretch on our forthcoming book about kitchens, we thought it would be fun to publish a series of posts about a kitchen remodel on which I’m now working. You can read the first post here. Upcoming posts will discuss aesthetic dimensions, sources of hardware and other products, etc.
Stepping up together (by staying apart — Construction Man looks like he’d rather his friends stay at a proper distance) (Image: Library of Congress)
At the start of this kitchen project, the contractor, clients and I scheduled the work onsite for June, when Jenny and Ben would be in Austria in connection with Ben’s job. Then came covid-19. There may be no trip to Europe.
As veterans of many a kitchen remodel done with customers living in their home, Mark and I have ways of minimizing the pain. These include:
dust collection for power tools
dust barriers between the work area and the rest of the house (This includes covering HVAC vents to minimize the spread of dust through that system.)
floor mats (such as this one) that pick up dirt to keep it from being tracked out of the job area
clean up at the end of each day
a temporary kitchen set-up with a sink and counter (or table). We move the fridge into another room so it can keep storing food. A hotplate, crock pot and toaster oven will cook most meals. An outside grill will even make cooking fun.
We’re still set for June, though at this point all plans are subject to change if someone gets sick — or if the government imposes a directive to shelter in place. Even without such a directive, Mark and I have changed how we do business in the interest of minimizing contact with others.
Evidence of creativity from kids cooped up at home: Cats of all sorts hang from the ceiling.
As bars, restaurants and businesses with potential to disrupt supply lines have been shutting down en masse in response to the pandemic, it occurred to me that I should get as many of the materials as possible in hand without delay, in case my suppliers have to cease operations for several weeks. So yesterday, after confirming that Ben and Jenny were ready to go forward, I put together my primary materials orders and called them in — the solid wood and sheet goods order to Frank Miller Lumber, the hinges, drawer slides and blind corner storage unit to Richelieu Hardware, two of my most dependable suppliers for more than 15 years. At least this way I should be able to stay working and keep the job on track.
Existing cabinets: Should they stay or should they go?
In an ideal world, x-ray vision would enable us to see through cabinets, counters, walls and other solid materials to determine the location of ducts, electrical wires, gas and water lines and other things with potential to throw a wrench in the works. Locating such objects is especially important when you’re reworking the layout of a room; you need to assess whether your design can in fact be implemented. (While it’s true that anything can in principle be changed, the budget available for a job usually plays a big part in determining what “can” and “cannot” happen.)
To keep the household cooking without interruption for as long as possible, we’re leaving the existing kitchen intact for now. The basic layout of the cabinets will stay the same, so there’s no mystery about rerouting services. But there was one area I wanted to check before I start cutting parts for the new cabinets, the framed-up structure that housed the wall oven housing — just to make sure there was no surprise lurking inside. So yesterday Mark and I took out the wall oven (which no longer worked) and excavated a small portion of the wall to confirm there was nothing there beyond studs and plaster on metal lath. Before pulling the oven, Mark removed the appropriate fuse (yes, the house still has fuses, not breakers; installing a new panel will be part of the project) and covered the wires with wire nuts. After cleaning up the debris, he screwed a scrap of plywood over the over-sized hole to keep the resident kittens from potentially perilous exploration.
I hacked into the corner of the wall with the claw of a hammer to find out whether we’d be dealing with drywall or plaster. Meanwhile, aided by an invaluable headlamp, Mark used a multi-tool to cut a hole in the side of the oven housing for access to the wall. (Why not move the fridge out? you may wonder. The floor in front of it was packed with everyday stuff, and the table was covered in boxes of the cabinet’s former contents. It was easier to go through the cabinet side.)
The other structural detail we needed to check involved the staircase. Between the living room and the kitchen there’s a passageway about three-feet wide — plenty of space to move through easily, in theory. But in this case, the stairs to the basement loom like a chasm on one side. While the stairway poses no actual danger, it’s close enough to provoke a slight sense of risk — the kind of distinct yet largely subconscious discomfort that kitchen designer Johnny Grey has argued — convincingly — should be avoided.
Before. Picture yourself standing in the spot where I took this shot. Immediately to your left would be a gaping chasm — the stairway to the basement.
It’s not feasible to relocate the staircase as part of this project, but it occurred to me early on that it might be possible to shift the stairs forward by the width of one tread, and so add almost a foot to this narrow passage to make this traverse a bit more comfortable. Shifting the stairs would require raising the wall above the staircase base (see the image below) to gain the headroom code requires. This wall, however, is a major support for the roof, so I wanted Mark to take a good look at how it relates to its surroundings and determine whether he’d be able to modify it. (Before you think about modifying a wall of this sort it’s essential to consult someone who can assess the structural ramifications. I often refer clients to a structural engineer, but in this case, Mark has the insight required.) He gave the green light (which has nothing to do with the green circle of the mobile that hangs above).
Mark checks headroom to confirm that he can rework the staircase, thereby widening the floor at the entry to the kitchen by about 10″.
I’m waiting for the lumber delivery as I write this post. Next up: Building the cabinets.
Editor’s note: For the next several weeks, we will feature some of our favorite columns from “Honest Labour: The Charles H. Hayward” years, along with a few sentences about why these particular columns hit the mark.
This column from 1937 is one of my personal favorites because of the poem:
“Work apace, apace, apace, apace;
Honest labour bears a lovely face;”
Try saying it out loud as you work (be sure no one is watching) and you can feel the rhythm of mortising or sawing flow through the syllables. Aside from that, I am deeply aligned with Hayward’s admonition that we should commit ourselves completely to something. That is what was missing from my life when I was a young journalist. For me, writing has always been important, but it doesn’t have the dizzying depth of woodworking, which involves all the senses. Hand skill. Memory. Geometry. Once I committed to woodworking, my path became clear. Or, as Hayward put it: “For we have to take in all we can and give out all we can, if we are to make a success of anything.”
Top that, Master Yoda.
— Christopher Schwarz
Honest Labour
Honest labour bears a lovely face
From time to time we come across men in their middle or old age whose faces show the stamp of an experience which has bred in them much wisdom and kindliness, setting them apart somehow from the ordinary run of men. We enjoy talking to them; their company is stimulating even when they are not very ready of speech. There is something so real and sincere about them, and their opinions are so well founded. We find them among farm workers, fishermen, cabinetmakers, cobblers, among workers of all trades just as much as among professional men, and always they have the one thing in common—hardworking lives. One of the sweetest singers among the Elizabethan poets wrote:
“Work apace, apace, apace, apace; Honest labour bears a lovely face;”
Which perhaps puts its finger on their secret. And it is good, just now when holidays are over, to reflect a little on this matter of work.
***
Most of us have to work in order to live and, like sensible men, make the best of it. But it is only when we come across the man whom work has, as it were, seasoned like a piece of fine old wood that we begin to suspect that work may have more purpose in our lives than we give it credit for. Just as a man brings his own powers of hand and mind to bear upon the work he is doing, so does that work in turn influence him. It sets its mark upon him, in some cases even producing distinct, recognisable types—shepherd, stable boy, lawyer, doctor, we know how each can carry in face and bearing some reflection of his daily activities—but, whatever the work, it helps to mould the man. The more it demands of him, mentally or physically, the more it can do for him, toughening his fibre, strengthening his will, bringing out qualities which otherwise might have lain dormant all his life, fine qualities some of them, even rare qualities. Work can also twist and warp a man: it all depends, I think, upon our attitude towards it.
***
There are business men who optimistically placard their offices with such texts as: “There’s no fun like work,” but I would like to know how many of us believe them. Work is not fun. To call it fun is just one of those silly, superficial sayings which glance at a truth and then sheer away again. Work has its glorious moments, moments when we are working at the top of our form and thoroughly enjoying ourselves, but it also has its inevitable drudgery; the steady doing from day to day of a certain job, whether we like it or not, sometimes in the teeth of difficulty, sometimes in spite of our own inclination of the moment, simply doing it because it has to be done, as one of the necessities of existence. Herein lies its value, bracing us up in mind and body, bringing out qualities of patience and steadfastness which otherwise might be lacking. But we have tacitly to accept it and make an honest job of work if we are to reap the real good, the essential good, which is greater really than the weekly pay envelope.
***
Thomas Dekker, he wrote that “Honest labour bears a lovely face” knew what he was talking about, for he worked hard in order to live and was famous among his fellow poets and playwrights for his “right happy and copious industry.” The fact of the matter is that we are mainly unknown quantities, even to ourselves. We can only guess at our own powers. The full range and extent of them we simply do not know till ambition or necessity, through hard work, force us to develop them. Our minds and our wills are the very queerest things and need all the urge and all the stiffening they can get from the hard, unsentimental facts of existence before they will begin to show of what they are capable. Work brings a man to maturity, jostling him up against his fellow men in competition, sharpening his wits, developing his skill, whether in the handling of men or affairs or the handling of a tool, at the very least into the regular habit of industry. Work is not really the enemy which, when we are in holiday mood or suffering from illness or fatigue, it may sometimes appear. It is another of the instruments of our education to life, and often the sterner it is the more it brings out the worth of a man.
***
That is why men, who cannot from the nature of their work employ their energies as actively as they wish, are wise when they use part of their leisure in the work of their choice. We call it a hobby then, but many a man who has drifted casually into a hobby has found in it a lifework. In this, at least, he is his own master, and he may become a master in the highest sense, of a craft, of a science, or an art, if he gives himself wholeheartedly to it. That is the difficulty with most of us: we don’t give ourselves out enough. We are always holding back, making excuses when we come to the difficult bits for not being quite as thorough as we should. There is always a technique to be learnt, and pains and patience are needed to master it. Every step of the way cannot be equally interesting. When mankind tried to eliminate drudgery it invented machines, and brought boredom into the lives of the millions of men who have to do the little routine jobs in attendance on them while the machines do the real work. And boredom is worse by a long way, for it simply stifles us. Drudgery as a means to an end, and that the perfecting of a job, has to have its place, but if we really set our hearts on success we shall not grudge one moment of it.
***
So to all those of our readers who, as amateurs, are planning to carry on with their woodwork this winter, we would say: see that every job is as good and as thorough as you can make it from start to finish. Don’t stint your pains and don’t miss any opportunity, through careful study of our pages and by any other means within your power, of learning all you can about the elements of woodwork as well as about advanced processes. Any miscellaneous knowledge about timber, tools, furniture, whatever it is, that you gather by the way, will never come amiss. For we have to take in all we can and give out all we can, if we are to make a success of anything. And that applies to things far greater than woodwork; even to life itself, I think.
On the left is the lid of the original ATC, with through mortise-and-tenon joinery. On the right is my ATC at the Lost Art Press shop, with loose-tenon joinery. You can’t see the difference (except on the back edge of the lid), and like the one on the left, the one on the right is strong enough for even the largest of sitters.
Editor’s note: As promised, Christopher Schwarz and I are writing a series of blog entries that explain how we have improved the construction process for “The Anarchist’s Tool Chest” during the last nine years (and several hundred chests).
Loose-tenon joinery goes back to Greek and Roman times – boats were built using drawbored loose tenons. I start with this fact so as to (hopefully) stave off slings and arrows (which go back further than Roman times).
When Chris built his lid for the first Anarchist’s Tool Chest (the one in the book), and when I built my first one (now in my basement shop at home), we cut through mortise-and-tenon joints for the lid. Now, we employ that loose-tenon joint that goes back to antiquity. Sure, we use a modern approach (the Festool Domino), but the joint is time-tested, and plenty strong enough for these lids (a theory that has been tested time and again by people triple my size sitting on the lid of my chest at the Lost Art Press shop).
The mortises and tenons as shown in the book.
If you’re building one at home and feel the urge, go ahead and cut the mortises and tenons if you like – that joint is the strongest. But also plenty strong enough are two other joints Chris tried out in classroom settings: the bridle joint (slightly easier/faster), then the half-lap joint (easier/faster still). He was on a quest to get the builds down to five days when he tried these out – and they helped to shorten the journey…but not enough.
Now, we pull out the Domino XL, because it’s the only way we’ve found to get the lids glued up before the students leave on Day 5 (and again, the joint is plenty strong). And while at the beginning of the week, we get a grumble or two from time to time when someone asks how we’re doing the lids, by Day 5, everyone is so tired and eager to be done that they embrace the change. And they all leave with the frame-and-panel assemblies done.
But the Domino XL is a $1,500 tool, so use one of the three other approaches if you don’t have or have access to one.
After running the mating grooves on the frame pieces and panel (which in all but the most advanced-student circumstances we do with a dado stack on the table saw), dry-fit the assembly to determine the layout of the two 12mm x 140mm loose tenons. We use the same setup for all students in a given class, so we then set two combination squares to the desired settings: one small (the shorter measurement) and one large (the longer measurement).
While you could perfectly align all the pieces and mark across both at once, we find it’s safer (read: fewer mistakes) if we have folks use the squares – with a reminder to always register the stock off the outside edges – to mark the mortise locations on each piece individually. Anal-retentive? You bet. Does it cut down on errors? Absolutely.
To further reduce the possibility of mistakes, we set up stops to hold the work while using the Domino; they restrain the work against the fairly significant pressure required to plunge the tool into the work, and hold the work flat to the bench. If the mortises aren’t at 90°, it causes problems, so everything we can do to help make them perfect, we do.
With the work restrained, it’s simply a matter of keeping the fence on the Domino flat to the wood, so we encourage – strongly encourage – that you grasp and push down with one hand, using your other hand to plunge by pushing on the back of the tool, but not grasping the handle. (We’ve found that grasping the handle results in folks pushing down and tipping the tool a bit during the cut.)
Here, I’ve aligned the registration mark on the business end of the tool with one of my mortise location marks on the rail. Note that all my pressure downward on the tool is with my left hand. My right hand is simply pushing in. I also have the toes on my left foot hooked under the rail of my workbench. You have to exert a fair amount of pressure to plunge the tool’s cutter into the work; my hooked toes keep me from sliding backward.
After the mortises are cut, make sure you dump out the sawdust in the bottom of the mortise. Though our dust collection is good, it’s not good enough to clear all the dust from the mortise bottoms.
No, you don’t really need this picture…but I was so happy to catch the falling dust with my camera that you get it anyway.
With the mortises all cut, do a dry assembly before opening the glue.
Oh good – it worked! (Note the faint marriage marks on the top of all the pieces – I re-established those on each piece after I planed up the surface. Those make it a snap to get things together in the right orientation.)
Once everything fits together, cut a 30° bevel on the top edges of the lid (or just soften the edges, per the book) before glue-up.
No bevel on the left; bevel on the right (plus my lid panel is a little thicker, not by design, but because that’s what the stock for the class in which I built this one allowed).
Arrange the rails (the long pieces) with the mortises facing up, and squeeze in a healthy amount of glue, spread it all around and up the mortise sides with an acid brush, then stick the loose tenons in place. Put glue in the stile mortises (move quickly now, as things will get drippy) and slip them onto their mates on one rail. Slide the lid panel in place (remembering that the lid panel lips over the rails…not under), then put the second rail in place and clamp until dry.
Unless things go very wrong, you should need only one clamp at each end. Make sure to push the rails and stiles down flush to the clamp’s bar – that will help you get a co-planar assembly.
Now, just as it says in the book, cut dovetail joints for the dust seal (one tail on each side piece) and glue the dust seal to the front and sides of the lid. Then add some nails for good measure. The dust seal will see a lot of opening and closing action.
There’s one last difference – and this one is motivated by experience, not by a classroom setting. In “The Anarchist’s Tool Chest,” Chris writes to cut a bevel at the back ends of the dust seal to act as a stop when the lid is open. The bevel can break off with repeated use, so now, we cut these two sticks flush with the back edge of the lid’s frame-and-panel assembly. The wall makes an excellent lid stay.
At left is the “stay” image from the book; in the center is one of Chris’s bevel stays after nine years of use; at right is my flush-cut dust seal. (I have a chain on my chest that acts as a stay…but the wall is right there, so I don’t really need it.)
From the photo gallery you can see the leaves and flowers. These are some of the options to be found on street tree maps. Singapore’s map can be found 
Another set of trees you might find in a map are heritage trees. Seattle’s tree map includes heritage trees (in orange) and reminds the viewer the trees may be on private land, in a park or be a street tree. As this map notes, a heritage tree is “distinguished by botanical, historic or landmark significance such as size, age or uniqueness.” Seattle’s map can be found 
