Editor’s note: Thanks to everyone who entered our True Tales of Woodworking Contest, in celebration of the release of Nancy Hiller’s new edition of “Making Things Work: Tales of a Cabinetmaker’s Life.” We enjoyed reading every one of the entries – it was difficult to choose a winner (a good problem to have!). We’re running some of our top choices here (lightly edited to match LAP editorial style), and will announce and share the winning story on Saturday, Feb. 1. Nancy will also be sharing some of the entries on her Making Things Work blog, so be sure to tune in there, too! — Fitz
In the 1980s, I made and sold Windsor chairs, using mostly old techniques and tools. Mike Dunbar’s “Windsor Chairmaking” was my handbook, and Santore’s “Windsor Style in America” was my inspiration. One friend’s 100-acre forest provided the trees, which I cut down with a chain saw; another friend’s gorgeous Percheron mare, a draft horse with hooves almost the size of dinner plates, hauled them out.
Instruction was hard to find. I remembered how scary it had been, as a kid in junior high shop class, “poking a bar of steel into a spinning chunk of wood”* – it hadn’t turned out well.
Today, excellent instruction is available on-demand in downloads and streaming videos; Peter Galbert’s wonderful materials come to mind. Forty years ago, a beginner would have to go to the teacher. After wasting four months trying unsuccessfully to figure out how to turn wood, I finally found a mentor, 300 miles to the south, whom I met at a workshop 300 miles west.
One of the most challenging things for me was learning how to drill the seat for the legs. I quickly experienced the heartbreak of destroying a carved seat by drilling the legs wrong. The technique shown in Dunbar’s book used two angle gauges and a hand-held brace with a spoon bit; that didn’t work for me. I found it easier to use a single line of sight with a single angle gauge (a common technique, today). I used an antique Delta floor-standing drill press with a foot pedal to bring the bit down into the wood. That left both hands free to hold the big wooden chair seat in position. To get the correct angle for the legs, I built a wooden tilting table that bolted to the work surface. It worked great and I could tilt it either way – front or back.
I often demonstrated chairmaking at the local Farmer’s Market. On one of these occasions, a young guy watched me from a distance. Eventually, he showed up at my door, introduced himself, and said he would love to watch me work, and learn how to build a chair in my workshop. I quickly realized that Eddie had a lot of potential; he had worked with mentors far more talented than I was, repairing 17th and 18th century furniture, stuff that I had seen only in museums. I taught him by simply showing him what I did and explaining why I did it. I said there were probably better ways to do all of it, but I just hadn’t found them.
I suggested the best way to make his first chair was to find a big fireplace, so he could burn his first attempt; he shouldn’t take it too seriously – that would minimize the stress. Eddie ignored me, of course; he was determined to make his first attempt a really great piece of work. And he was doing quite well; he spent several days carefully cutting and carving a seat to a very pleasing shape, and then turned some very nice legs to go with it.
Eddie was very capable, so I let him work pretty much on his own, unless he asked for help. I occasionally took a peek to keep him out of trouble. The challenge was teaching without interfering, finding that line between oversight and overbearing. I showed him how to set up the drill press to bore the holes in the seat, and then watched from a distance. I knew how easy it was to reverse the angle of the table, and have the chair legs gathered tight together on the floor, like a goat on a rock.
I saw him setting it up wrong, and I just couldn’t bear to let him destroy that beautifully carved seat. I also wanted him to learn to think about what he was doing. I didn’t take my eyes off him as I quietly backed off into the far corner of the windowless shop. I waited to see if the light would go on in his head, but he pressed on. When he finally had everything ready (and backward), Eddie reached up and flipped the switch on the drill press motor. I pulled the switch in corner. The shop went dark, the machine fell silent, and Eddie yelled “NOOOO!!!!!” as he finally realized what he’d been about to do.
When we finally stopped laughing in the dark, I turned the power back on and we got back to work. His first chair turned out very nice, and he still has it decades later.
— Ed Rumsey
*David Fisher’s colorful reason for carving rather than turning bowls:
“There’s something about a twenty pound chunk of wood spinning around at five hundred rpm that makes me not want to poke it with a bar of steel. I like my chunks of wood to sit still in front of me.” https://davidffisherblog.wordpress.com/2016/02/07/carving-round-bowls-can-be-super/
As promised, everyone at the storefront has thrown themselves into lump hammer production. We’ve just delivered the biggest batch of lump hammers to our warehouse. They will be entered into inventory and will go on sale later this week.
We’ve had a few customers complain that we don’t give enough advance notice of when tools will go on sale. To help reduce the emotional emails that John and Meghan answer, we’re going to put these hammers up for sale on Friday. I don’t know what time yet, however. Watch this blog for the time.
If you have been waiting to buy a hammer, we hope that Friday is your day.
Also, this week we’re going to start selling Arno burnishers. These are our favorite burnishers (we’ll explain why in a bit). And we will sell them for less thanEDIT: for the same price Amazon does. So stay tuned.
Finally, we still have stock on Crucible Card Scrapers. That’s because everyone in our supply chain bent over backward to help us out. Thank you.
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).
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.)
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.
With the mortises all cut, do a dry assembly before opening the glue.
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.
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.
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.
Megan Fitzpatrick and I have spent the last couple days getting a huge batch of Crucible Card Scrapers finished and packaged up. And today we sent off nearly 700 of them to the warehouse.
I’d like to thank everyone in our supply chain – from the waterjet cutter to our machine shop to our magnet vendor – for busting hump to get these done. But mostly I’d like to thank Megan for helping me plow through QC, assembly and packaging today.
We think these scrapers are the cat’s pajamas. They are easy to sharpen and require little thumb pressure to produce beautiful shavings.
Note that the logo applied to the scrapers is a repositionable magnet and not a sticker. Hence they are a little crooked and off-center. You can satisfy your OCD to the max as the magnets are a precisely shrunk shape from my CAD drawings of the scraper.
Anyway, they are available now for shipment – $20 plus domestic shipping. You can read all about them (and how to sharpen them) here.
— Christopher Schwarz
P.S. Brendan Gaffney is working on a huge batch of lump hammers that we hope to finish next week. Details, as always, on our Instagram account.
I first learned about the Twin Oaks Community while working on “Cut & Dried” with Richard Jones. We needed an index. Members of Twin Oaks, an intentional community in rural central Virginia, make their living, in part, by indexing books. Additional income is generated by making hammocks and furniture and tofu, and seed growing. The Twin Oaks Community, comprised of about 90 adults and 15 children, are income-sharing. Members complete about 42 hours of business and domestic work a week, and in return receive housing, food, healthcare and personal spending money.
Rachel Nishan from Twin Oaks responded to my indexing query, and we agreed to work together. Indexing a technical book such as “Cut & Dried” is a rather monumental task, and just thinking about it made my eye twitch. Yet Rachel approached the project without an air of stress, asking detailed questions about tree types, specificity and British spellings. Throughout our correspondence one sentence has stayed with me, years later: “… a more technically-inclined reader could want to look through the index in a variety of different ways, so I have tried to be pretty redundant, which is the kindest for the user of the index.”
“Kindest for the user.” I think that’s the heart of bookmaking, no?
Richard and I sent hundreds of emails to each other while working together to turn his years of work into book form. And all of that correspondence, from image selection to epsilon size, was written with Rachel’s not-yet-said phrase in mind: kindest for the user.
I was nervous to begin work on this book. Honestly, I thought the content would be too technical for me to understand. But then I read it. And realized Richard used his genius to transform his scholarly work into easy reading. And Rachel made topics within the text easy to find. And Meghan designed the book to be easy on the eyes. All with kindness in mind.
Many woodworkers are initially reluctant to study trees in detail fearing the subject is dauntingly heavy. Whilst it’s true the subject can be studied with scientific precision it’s really only necessary to get to grips with the main elements to gain a firm basic knowledge. Wood isn’t created with the needs of the woodworker in mind. The creation of wood is necessary for trees’ survival. We simply use what nature provides. Understanding the original function of wood helps woodworkers use it sympathetically and successfully. One example of useful basic knowledge described earlier is to understand the essentials of Latin scientific classification resulting in precision and clarity in any discussion of the subject.
All trees are members of the plant family. Specifically, they are all spermatophytes meaning they are seed-bearing plants. Trees are generally characterised as being perennial seed-bearing vascular woody plants with a root system and (ordinarily) a single trunk supporting a crown of leaf-bearing branches. With exceptions (see mention of the Arctic willow, Salix arctica, earlier) they normally reach a minimum height at maturity of five m (15′) and survive for at least three years.
This basic classification then breaks trees down into two distinctive types – the angiosperms (covered seeds) and the gymnosperms (naked seeds). Alternative names for these two groups are hardwoods, deciduous or broad-leaved trees (angiosperms), and conifers or softwoods (gymnosperms). The terms hardwood and softwood can be misleading as not all hardwoods produce hard wood, e.g., soft balsa wood is the product of a hardwood tree whereas yew is hard and comes from a softwood tree.
Typical of deciduous trees in temperate climates is the loss of leaves during autumn as the tree loses vitality followed by a dormant winter period. As usual there are exceptions where many of the hollies (Ilex spp.) retain their spiky and waxy leaves throughout the year. Spring, with its longer daylight hours and warmer weather, heralds a new period of rapid growth with the emergence of new leaves, flowering and reproduction. This is not true of all hardwoods in all climates. Many equatorial living hardwoods are able to grow all year round and may never lose their leaves en masse. With these trees the cycle is continuous as old leaves reach the end of their useful life to be replaced by new ones.
Angiosperms (deciduous trees) from all climatic conditions have a characteristic growth pattern. Their form is deliquescent or dendritic, meaning there is branching and re-branching of a main trunk.
Gymnosperms (coniferous or evergreen) trees typically retain their leaves throughout the year, with larch being one exception to this trait. Their form is generally excurrent – the main trunk rises singly with lesser sideways branching. Broadleaved trees usually have large, relatively fragile, blade-like leaves and, to prevent dehydration of the tree resulting from their retention, they are lost before winter. Conifers on the other hand typically are able to resist dehydration because of their tough, needle-like waxy leaves, which stay on the tree through all the seasons. As with tropical hardwoods discussed earlier they lose leaves and replace them all year round. However, I’ve noticed even the much-despised fast growing leylandii (Cupressocyparis x leylandii) planted in my back garden by a previous owner loses more leaves in the winter than in the summer. Leylandii are, in truth, a very attractive tree grown where they have space. They grow very swiftly and are really too large in small British gardens – they rapidly exclude light and dominate these small spaces.
In common with hardwood trees living in cool temperate climates, evergreens have a dormant winter period.
Tree growth occurs in just three places. The first two are the tips of the branches and roots, which increases the tree’s height and the spread of the crown along with the range of the roots. The third place where growth occurs is in the girth of the trunk, branches and roots by the addition of an annual growth ring. Meristem or meristematic tissue refers to the growth tissue in trees. The growing tips of twigs and roots is the apical meristem. The lateral meristem is the cambium layer adding girth to the tree’s structure.
The cells produced by meristematic tissue, whether they are leaves, flowers, bark or wood, are largely of cellulose. Cellulose forms strong and stable long chain molecular structures. This, along with the lignin bonded with, or to it, is what gives wood its strength. Lignin is the “glue” holding wood together and is a complex mixture of polymers of phenolic acids. Lignin forms about 25 percent of wood’s composition and becomes elastic when heated. It is lignin’s flexible plastic property allowing wood cells to rearrange themselves that woodworkers use to their advantage during steam-bending wood into new shapes.
The majority of cells making up a tree’s structure are elongated longitudinal cells. Their long axis runs vertically up the trunk (and along the branches and roots). Some of these cells are short and stumpy and others are long and slender. The vascular function of the newly formed longitudinal cells is to conduct liquid raw essentials up the tree to the leaves and processed sugary food down the tree to nourish it. Spread through the wood are rays or medullary rays. These ray cells are also elongated but their long axis radiates from the centre of the tree toward the bark. They are stacked one upon the other throughout the length of the trunk in slender wavy bands.
In many wood species the rays are invisible to the naked eye but in others, such as numerous oaks and maples, they are usually highly visible because the groups of cells are large. Some ray cells – the parenchyma – store carbohydrates for use in cell development. The other primary purpose of the medullary rays is to transport nourishing sap toward the centre of the tree.
3.1 Log Cross Section From the outside there is the outer bark (see figure 3.6), which is a protective insulating layer against weather, animal, fungal and insect attack. The bark has millions of tiny pores called lenticels through which necessary oxygen passes into the inner living cells beneath. In polluted atmospheres such as cities the lenticels clog with dirt. London plane (Platanus x hispanica) is well suited to city life because it sheds its bark regularly, exposing clear lenticels. The bark of all trees flakes off as the girth gets bigger.
Inside the outer bark is phloem, bast or inner bark. The phloem is produced by the cambium layer and is a soft spongy liquid-conducting vascular tissue that carries processed food – sugary sap – from the leaves to the rest of the tree.
Beneath this layer is cambium – the lateral meristem (growing tissue) that adds girth to the tree. The cambium is a slimy layer only one cell thick. These cells divide constantly when the tree is active. The cambium produces not only phloem towards the outside but, towards the centre, it produces xylem.
Xylem has two major functions. As sapwood it conducts water and minerals from the roots to the leaves. Sapwood contains both live tissue and dead tissue. Dead xylem, the heartwood, is the trees’ structural support. The longitudinal cells described earlier are organised to form water- and nutrient-conducting tracheids in gymnosperms or conifers, although some hardwoods also contain tracheids. In angiosperms (broad-leaved trees) the order is different. Vessels, which are continuous tubular structures, form a pipeline from the root tips to the leaves rather akin to drinking straws bundled and glued together. (Note, though, the comment I made about some hardwoods also containing tracheids.) In oaks, for example (see figure 3.7), the naked eye easily picks out the initial spring-laid vessels or pores. In other tree types magnification is required. Sapwood is often attacked by food-seeking life forms such as fungi, insect and animal life.
As sapwood xylem ages it loses its vitality through the loss of the living protoplasm within the cells and turns into heartwood. In some species the transition between living xylem and heartwood is abrupt and clearly visible as seen in the yew cross section at left. With others it is hard to distinguish between sapwood and heartwood. The sapwood can remain as living protoplasmic cells for several years but this period varies from species to species, and even within trees of the same species. The yew sample at left shows newly laid sapwood that took about 8 or 12 years to convert to heartwood.
Heartwood is the column of xylem supporting the tree. It is dead because it has lost its active protoplasm. Whilst outer layers of the tree are intact – protecting the heartwood nourished by foodstuffs transported to it by the medullary rays – it will not decay. Heartwood is usually, but not always, distinct in colour from sapwood. Extractives cause the colour change. Extractives are trace elements imparting various combinations of characteristics to heartwood, such as colour, fungal- and bacterial-resistance, reduced permeability of the wood tissue, additional density of heartwood, and abrasive deposits.
Tyloses are bubble-like structures that develop in the tubular vessels of many hardwoods during the changeover from sapwood to heartwood. Tyloses block the previously open vessels, preventing free movement of liquid. Red oaks form very few tyloses whereas white oaks produce many and this explains why white oaks are preferred for barrels. It’s possible to blow through a stick of red oak submerged in water and create bubbles. Whisky distillers are well aware of the “Angels’ Share,” which is the part of the spirit, usually about 2 percent, that evaporates through the wood of the oak barrel (Whisky Magazine, 2008).
Growth rings are the result of the cambium layer adding new tissue year upon year. The cambium layer (in temperate climates) becomes active in spring, reacting to chemical signals produced in the tree brought about by warming temperatures and longer daylight hours. During its active period the cambium layer adds open, fast-grown porous tissue to cope with the rush of water and minerals required of the freshly opened leaves. As the summer approaches and the initial high demand for food subsides, the cambium lays down denser, harder latewood, which adds strength to the trunk and branches.
At the centre of the tree cross section is the pith or medulla. The pith is the small core of soft spongy tissue forming the original trunk or branch.
3.2 Gymnosperms & Angiosperms – Differences 3.2.1 Gymnosperms Gymnosperms (conifers, softwoods) are simpler in structure than angiosperms. Gymnosperms evolved earlier than angiosperms and have some distinct structural characteristics. More than 90 percent of the wood’s volume is made of tracheids. Tracheids are long fibrous cellulosic8 cells approximately 100 times longer than their diameter. They range between about 2 mm and 6 mm (about 1/16″ to 1/4″) in length depending on the species.
The two main functions of tracheids are as structure for the tree and as conductors of sap – nourishment. Tracheids conduct liquid food up the tree after the living protoplasm has left. Water and minerals pass upward to the leaves from one tracheid to the next via osmosis. Osmosis is the process where liquid from a high water (weak) solution passes through a cell wall into a low water (strong) solution. In softwood trees water and minerals move upward from the roots initially through upward root pressure created by soil-borne water migration into the root tracheid cells. Secondly, there is also transpirational pull created by water evaporating from the leaves. This method of conducting foodstuffs is distinctly different to the method used in broad-leaved trees described later.
The cambium layer lays down different forms of tracheids at different times of year. In the spring, the tracheids laid down are thin walled with a large diameter and are lighter in colour. Late-growth tracheids are dark coloured, have thicker walls and a smaller diameter. The early-wood tracheids with their thin walls are better at conducting liquid than the later thick-walled tracheids. Both will conduct water, but a tree needs structure as well as the ability to transport liquid – there is a necessary balance struck between the two functions in tracheid cell structure.
A distinctive characteristic found in some gymnosperms is resin carried in resin canals. Pine, spruce, larch and Douglas fir have resin canals. These timbers have a characteristic scent when worked, and the resin can cause bleeding problems under paint and polishes. One way of setting the resin solid to reduce bleeding problems is to raise the temperature of the wood during kiln drying to 175º F for a sustained period. Genuine gum turpentine is a product of the resin from Southern yellow pine, a tree of the North American continent.
Medullary rays are narrow in conifers and invisible to the naked eye, so to see them it’s necessary to mount thin wood samples on a slide for examination under a microscope.
3.2.2 Angiosperms Hardwoods are more complex than gymnosperms. There are a number of specialised cells present in angiosperms absent from gymnosperms. For instance, the means of conducting liquid foodstuffs up and down the tree in nearly all cases is through the vascular tubular vessels. This is distinctly different to the liquid-conducting tracheids of conifers. The vessels in angiosperms form a bundle of pipes encircling the tree. The fibrous tracheids of hardwoods are much smaller than they are in conifers and because of their thick walls they are not well suited to conduct liquids. Unlike the softwoods, the rays of deciduous trees are often easily visible, e.g., in oaks, sycamore, maple, beech etc. Resin canals are rare in angiosperms, but some tropical plants such as the rubber tree produce gum and have gum ducts.