Tomorrow (Aug. 8) is Open Wire day – a chance for you to ask any and all woodworking questions and get answers from Chris and me, as well as from your fellow woodworkers.
The Open Wire post will be live here on the blog at 8 a.m. tomorrow for you to post questions in the comment section, and we will start answering…as soon as we wake up and log on. I’m sure Chris will also be busy working on a chair tomorrow, and I’ll be working on junk removal from my backyard (my ex-kitchen is stacked up under the porch roof of my garage) and making shelves for the new kitchen. So please bear with us if we don’t get to your question right away. (And if you have an answer for someone else, please do chime in!)
I get to swing a sledgehammer tomorrow morning to flatten the cabinets. Fun! Then they and the rest of the detritus will be hauled away. Yay! (The cat shelters will stay, of course.)
Editor’s note: Our Mind Upon Mind series is a nod to a 1937 Chips from the Chisel column (also featured in “Honest Labour: The Charles H. Hayward Years”), in which Hayward wrote, “The influence of mind upon mind is extraordinary.” The idea being there’s often room for improvement.To that end, we’ve asked you what else you have thought of, tried out and improved upon after building projects from our books. To submit your own idea, email [email protected]. You can read more about the submission process here.
From time to time, I get minor gaps around the stick and leg tenons. (I am not the only one, right?) These gaps become more apparent with the finish on, because they don’t reflect light in the same way as the surrounding area.
I read about filling small holes with cyanoacrylate (CA) glue and decided to give it a try.
Does it work? Kind of. But I accidentally discovered that its biggest effect is something else entirely.
Without CA glue.
With CA glue.
You see, it’s relatively easy to plane, scrape or sand the glue residue from the face grain. But it soaks deep into the end grain and darkens it a lot. I don’t know how deep exactly, but I wasn’t able to remove it without making the whole arm thinner.
Owning my mistake, I decided that I like this look.
If you want to replicate it, smear a thin layer of CA glue across the tenon. Even coverage is important to avoid visible streaks. You can go outside the tenon to fill gaps and scrape the area later to clean it up. I would avoid doing this on deeply scooped seats, because some of the end grain is exposed around the leg mortises and can get stained as well.
Try at your own risk on important pieces because it’s hard to undo!
For reference, the illustration shows chairs made from European beech and finished with eight coats of shellac.
The following is excerpted from Michael Pekovich’s book “Benchwork,” which we expect in our warehouse any day now. And because the words alone don’t fully do justice to introducing book, I’ve included a screen shot of each page from wich the text below is excerpted, so you can see the gorgeous design (also by Mike). You’ll find the Table of Contents below the excerpt.
While some of these planes are designed to create joinery from scratch, their biggest value often lies in fine-tuning the fit of machine-cut joints. At least this is where they earn their keep in my shop. My formal furniture making education in college led me to a machine-centric view of the craft. I had just enough hand tools – backsaw, chisels and a mallet – to cut a dovetail. A block plane and card scraper filled out my collection. My first experience with a dull bench plane was so distressing that it was many years before I revisited them. While I built a fair amount of furniture in that time, when I finally began to introduce more hand tools into my routine, my progress took a huge leap forward. Not only did my work improve, my mind-set and relationship to my tools changed as well. As I became familiar with using more hand tools (and sharpening them properly!), they integrated themselves into a seamless way of working. Hand versus power is not an either-or proposition in my work. Each tool and machine exists to do a job, and both complement each other in working toward the results I’m hoping for. That said, in spite of my professed adherence to efficiency, I find myself picking up a hand tool on occasion to cut a rabbet or groove that a tablesaw could tackle just as easily. The joy of the journey is at times more important than the speed at which we reach our destination.
Screenshot
Router Plane This is one of those tools where, while you can live without it quite happily, once you have it you’ll wonder how you ever got by without one. Available in different sizes, the larger versions typically feature a fine depth adjustment, while the smaller versions come without it. For tasks like cleaning out the bottom of hinge mortises, the small router plane is the way to go. For larger-scale tasks, the increased size of the base and outspread handles of the large router plane is a benefit. In addition to clearing out the bottoms of dadoes and grooves, a large router plane can be used to size tenons as well. I’ll often make stopped cuts at the tablesaw for non-through dadoes, and a router plane is the perfect tool for cleaning out the scalloped portion of the cut.
Shoulder Plane As its name implies, you can certainly plane the shoulder of a tenon with a shoulder plane, but more often than not, I use it to plane the cheeks of the tenon. While this is not the only task suited to a shoulder plane, if that were all I used it for, it would still earn its keep in my collection. The unique feature of the plane is its blade, which runs the full width of the sole. This allows you to work into the corner of a rabbet or tenon. Most woodworkers opt for a medium-sized plane, but the large version has its merits. I find that its wider blade and increased mass is better suited to sizing tenons. That said, I’d get your hands on both before deciding which to buy. A smaller size can come in handy for more intricate tasks like fine-tuning the fit of a box top.
Inexpensive Option for Tenons A new shoulder plane can cost upwards of $300, making it understandably a significant purchase. A much cheaper alternative for tenon work is a rabbet plane. I consistently find vintage versions on sale for $30 to $50. For some reason they still represent a great value on the used market. Their open throat is not an issue on cross-grain cuts and the wide blade requires fewer passes and helps to ensure square tenons.
Tongue-and-groove Plane OK, this tool is just plain fun to use. Designed to cut mating tongues and grooves in 1⁄2 in. or 3⁄4 in. stock, this plane can make quick work of backboards in a bookcase or cabinet. The key to its functionality is a fence that pivots. In one orientation, the plane can cut a tongue along the edge of a board. Lifting a spring-release pin allows the fence to rotate 180°. In this position the plane will cut a centered groove to match the width of the tongue. Because the fence registers along the same face of the board for each cut, even if your stock is not to exact thickness, the joint will still align for a flat assembly. In harder woods I would likely opt to use my tablesaw when cutting the joint, but for the Eastern white pine I commonly use for the backs of my projects, the tongue-and-groove plane offers a pleasant respite from machine work and the accompanying roar of the dust collector. Lie-Nielsen makes a new version, but vintage versions can be found online.
Miter Plane Here is a somewhat guilty pleasure of mine. Is this an essential plane? You can easily argue that it is not. When shooting the ends of parts, a standard bench plane will serve well, and I’ve often used a jack plane for the task. A bevel-up plane with its low-angle blade is even better suited for planing end grain. While the bevel-up plane is a versatile tool that can also be used for a number of other tasks, the miter plane is a single-use tool, and not inexpensive at that. With all of that in mind, I have to say that this is a wonderful tool to use. Its length and mass, combined with a low-angle skewed blade, allow it to slice through end grain like butter. I often put it to use when sizing drawer fronts and case partitions, exacting procedures that require parts of a precise length. I typically get as close to a final fit as I dare at the tablesaw and then turn to the miter plane and shooting board to finish the task.
Side Rabbet Planes Another esoteric tool that may be hard to make a case for owning, the side rabbet plane often comes in pairs. It does exactly what its name implies, allowing you to dial in the width of a rabbet or dado. For the longest time, I assumed that they came in pairs with one for the right side of a groove and the other for the left side. The real reason is that the opposing blades allow you to work in either direction so that you are always planing with the grain. There are versions where a single plane is outfitted with blades on each end that serve the same purpose.
Table of Contents
Foreword 5 Introduction 8 Hand tools •Assembling a collection of tools •Essential chisels •The block plane is a good first plane •Where to begin with bench planes? •Planes for joinery •Tools for shaping •Handsaws •Filling out your kit
46 Benchwork •The unsung heroes of hand work •Shooting board is a shop staple •A pair of saw hooks •A shooting board for miters •Layout kit for dovetails •Give your work a lift •A nicer set of bench risers •Lock it down •Clamp-on vise for wide parts
94 Workbenches •Workbenches that work •Can’t I just buy a bench? •A bench worth building •Start with a solid foundation •Top off your bench •Finish the bench with a drawer case
154 A place for every tool •Tool storage sets the tone •A shop centerpiece •Getting off the ground •King-size twin •Plane till and gallery •Making a home for tools
196 Storage on the Go •A tale of two chests •Case joinery •A frame-and-panel lid •Pinned-rabbet drawers •Wrapped cord handles •Add a lock for the lid •Outfitting a tool chest •A minimalist tool chest •A useful tote
Cutting patterns and symbols in wood, and enhancing them with vibrant color, are folk traditions kept alive in the slöjd craft. Through decorations imbued with meaning, chip carving has given soul to slöjd woodcraft throughout history. Even today, chip carving offers a natural complement to an artfully crafted spoon, cutting board or shrink box – and it provides the opportunity to develop your own creativity and meaningful patterns.
This book teaches you techniques for cutting triangle chips, fingernail cuts, lines and letters — plus you’ll learn what kind of wood, knives and tools you need to get started, and techniques for painting your finished work. You’ll find 15 projects, from simple decorations on knife handles and signs to more demanding objects such as boxes and combs.
A good way to practice cutting patterns is to make a bunch of key fobs. The main purpose of a key fob is to indicate which lock the key is for. It should also be handy enough to fit in your pocket, but large enough to prevent the key from being lost. Some hotel key fobs are large and heavy so that the traveler won’t forget it in their pocket. The color and shape should be distinct, so that you don’t have to read the carved text every time you are looking for a key.
Material: Straight-grained birch, alder, willow or aspen. Metal wire or a small staple.
The blank should be 20-25cm (~8″) long. This makes it easier to quickly carve it smooth with a knife or in a shaving horse.
Choose the width and final length of your key fob. A standard size to start from is 6 x 30 x 80mm (1/4″ x 1-1/4″ x 3-1/8″).
METHOD From straight-grained, knot-free material, split out a blank and thin it down to a thickness of about 5-6mm (~1/4″). Carve it smooth with a drawknife or a long sheath knife on both sides.
Start by making a few sketches that you are happy with. Keep in mind that the letters should not be too small, otherwise they will be difficult to cut. Between 12 and 15mm (1/2″-9/16″ )is a good place to start.
There are different ways to attach the key. You can drill a 4mm (3/16″) hole for a string or strap, or you can insert a 19mm (3/4″) long staple into two 1.5mm (~1/16″) holes drilled into the end-grain wood.
Draw the outer contours onto the blank and saw it out a little roughly. Carve the sides and chamfer all the edges. Cut any concave surfaces with a gouge, such as grooves and shallow relief carvings.
Draw the text and any decorations as carefully as you can. Strop your chip carving knife, find good lighting and start cutting your pattern using the chip carving techniques.
When you are happy with the pattern, you can paint your key ring; see the chapter on painting.
There is little as an editor I dislike more than cutlists; I wish we could do away with them. No matter how many times and how many people check them, there are always cutlist errors. I always feel like a crap editor when readers point them out … as I should. (I offered to throw myself upon my mortise chisel this morning in shame, but thankfully, Chris dissuaded me.)
On the Pipe Box, which begins on page 63, we left out the shelf /divider between the top of the box and the drawer at the bottom. It is 3/8″ thick (though 1/4″ thick would work, too), 2-1/4″ wide and 3-1/4″ long. It is shown in the drawing though; hopefully, the cutlist omission won’t throw anyone off. (You do know to never blindly rely on cutlists…right?)
And on the Cat-ear Box, which begins on page 83, I added a x … for EXTREME CAT EARS, I guess. (I’d like to blame my cat Toby, who loves stepping on the keyboard while I’m working … but I did not work on this book at home, so I must take full and sole responsibility.)
