Several weeks ago I made the long journey to Iowa for the HandWorks tool event being held at the Amana Colonies. Because many woodworkers were unable to attend the event, I have assembled a gallery of photographs to help document everything that transpired. I’d like to thank Jameel Abraham and his entire family for putting together one of the best woodworking shows I have ever attended.
I would suggest asking any questions about the content of the photos here in the Lost Art Press comments section. Since many of the show presenters are also readers of this blog, you may actually get an answer. The presenters are welcome to make free use of these photos at their discretion.
I can’t post the original article from October 2012 – that is the property of Popular Woodworking Magazine. But you’re smart. You can figure it out. Or you can buy the issue here.
It has been two years since “The Anarchist’s Tool Chest” was released, and so I am an unpleasant person to be around.
During the last 24 months I have been distracted or devoted to the task of publishing books from other authors. I’ve been teaching classes on three continents. I’ve filmed four DVDs. I’ve written a dozen articles for magazines and more than 300 blog entries.
But no books.
So I’m doing what I always do when I write a book. I gather all the material I need, I ignore the world around me and I start typing.
Today was huge. I managed to gather all the wood I need to finish my book on campaign furniture with a trip to Midwest Woodworking.
I needed about 160 board feet of mahogany to build the remaining three projects for the book, which are now drawn in SketchUp and outlined on my laptop. Four 16’-long boards from the racks at Midwest did the trick. And this beautiful stock is now sitting in my basement, waiting patiently as I finish making a bowsaw and tidy up some loose ends for upcoming classes.
Why the heck am I telling you this?
Because I’m about to go underground. From now until Dec. 31, I will be slow to respond to e-mails. I’ll be blogging less (thanks in advance to Jeff Burks for picking up my slack). And I’m dialing down my teaching schedule for the next two years.
So if you have an urgent question, you might want to ask some of the other excellent hand tool bloggers out there. If you want to take a class with me, you might want to look at what’s on the calendar for the next few months (see the right rail of this blog). And if you are waiting for the campaign furniture book, know that I am forsaking all others for you. Well, really it’s for me. I don’t care if you buy the book, I’m writing it for me.
There are few mechanics who realize the importance of keeping their tools in perfect order; nevertheless, the experience of every one having to work with a set of tools ought to prove that he should love his tools and regard them with pride. We scarcely recollect a single instance of a really good workman who did not possess this affection for, and pride in, the implements which enabled him to turn out his work well.
If hammers are rusty and with faces covered with careless nicks, and fitted with ill-shaped and broken handles; if sharp-edged tools are badly ground and covered with rust; if cold chisels are made very much like old shanks taken at random from the scrap pile, and litter, dirt, tools and fragments are clustered together in a close conglomeration, it will convey about the same idea to the observer that a beggar in tattered habiliments would in the parlor of a prince. Every one would feel a great desire to either eject the intruder from the apartment or at once leave the place himself.
There are instances where this affection for, and pride in, implements have gone extremely far and become almost a monomania; so much so that the journeyman could scarcely bear to see you examining his chisels, files, etc., and seemed to have a fear, whilst you were looking at them, of some outward effect like that which the Indians attribute to an evil eye, but which merely arose from a species of selfish affection for these children of his handicraft. (more…)
Only suckers and the richie-rich buy tack rags at the store.
The rest of us can do a better job of making our own tack rags with simple shop chemicals and a just a few hours of work.
Step one: Get some cloth. To make the rag, you need something cotton that has got no lint. Old tank-top T-shirts are fine – just as long as they are thin enough that you can see your nipples through them.
Other options: Swipe some cheesecloth from the garbage of the local yuppie “cheeserie.” Raise some ungrateful kids and use their cloth diapers. Tip: Sort through the trash of your neighbors and get their old tack rags. Soak them in mineral spirits to remove the dust and binding agents. Launder them.
Step two: Soak your rags them in turps. If you live in the South, then turps are easy to get. Just pull over on the interstate in November and tap a longleaf pine tree by the side of the road. Here’s how:
First “box” the tree. Using a long-headed axe, cut a “box” shape into the base of the tree that is 10” to 14” wide and 2-1/2” deep. This will catch the sap from the tree.
Drive off.
In March, chip a “streak” approximately 3/4” wide and 1” deep above the box using a “hack” tool. This releases the sap, which collects in the box you cut back in November.
Drive off.
About April, use a steel spatula to scoop the liquid (called gum) from the box and into a bucket. With the turpentine collected, you can then soak your cotton cloths in the pine resin and get them ready to receive the thing that makes them “tack” cloths – some sort of resin.
Now, you can buy a varnish at the store and spend upwards of $13 on a quart of stuff that you can drizzle on your rags. Or you can easily make your own varnish using ingredients from the sporting goods store.
Step 1: Go to the sporting goods store and buy a cheap “batter’s bag,” which is filled with unrefined tree rosin, the key to making beautiful varnish. Suckers.
Step 2: You need a few quarts of olive oil. Take a Ziploc to your local Olive Garden and get the unlimited salad and breadsticks lunch. On the table will be a bottle of olive oil. Empty that into your plastic bag. Tell the waiter you are out of olive oil. Repeat until you have enough.
Step 3: A gallon of turps. You know the drill. Drive out to your longleaf pine forest in November….
Step 4: Boil these ingredients until they are the consistency of honey. Let it cool and put it into mason jars.
Now you are ready to make your tack rags. Take your turp-soaked diapers and drip some of your varnish on them, kneading the rags the whole time. Drizzle. Knead. When it gets real sticky, stop.
Victory. You are done. Store the rag in a plastic bag until you need it.
