This week I was discussing with a local friend my ongoing efforts to “catch up” in the eternal race for firewood inventory (it is a local habit to enter the winter with two winters’ worth of firewood; we entered last year with a year-and-a-half’s worth of firewood, and are now relying that surplus to get us through Christmas while the new stuff dries out) and he mentioned a load of timbers that had been dropped off at his place. His brother works for a large hardwood sawmill, and when the metal detectors find metal in a log or timber being milled, that piece is summarily rejected. These tulip poplar and oak timbers were simply going to be chopped and split as firewood.
So I dropped by to see what he had in hand, and oh my was there a pile of big timbers. I picked out three 10-foot 10″x 15″ chunks of white oak to make some workbenches. These were among the smallest timbers with some being 16×16 by about 15-feet long. There were a pair of logs that exceeded 24-inches diameter and twenty feet in length.
He thinks his brother can get him some more as time goes by and the inventory of rejected timbers grows.
I was just recuperating from the day, doing what I often do at the end of a hard day’s work — browsing woodworking videos on youtube, especially Japanese carpentry and furniture making videos.
Imagine my surprise, when pulling up a video on making a Japanese style toolbox, to find it was an excellent portrayal of a polissoir! He does have the real deal in hand, and does an excellent job of demonstrating the tool.
Some time ago when I was on the Executive Council of the Society of American Period Furniture Makers, with special interest towards outreach efforts, we spent a lot of time talking about the diminishing role of woodworking in the common culture and ways that we might foster increasing interest in skilled woodworking craft among those who were not yet practitioners. One idea I devised was something I called “The Block Plane Initiative” wherein established woodworkers would rehabilitate an old, unused block plane and make a gift of it to a new or potential woodworker. The idea for this came from convergence of several facts.
Almost nothing is more enticing to a new or potential woodworker than a tool that works spectacularly, but isn’t so exotic as to require esoteric skills.
The block plane is perhaps the most familiar hand tool to the outside world.
Unused block planes are ubiquitous in virtually every woodworking shop I have entered.
It takes less than an hour to rehab a block plane if all the parts are there.
Thus it would be a relatively simple and inexpensive way to evangelize for woodworking. Personally I keep a large stash of vintage block planes just for this effort. Some were given to me by friends, others were bought cheaply in box lots at auctions or flea markets.
There was not universal support for this idea, in great part because some furniture makers do not consider the block plane a “real furniture maker’s tool; it’s for carpenters.” And my reply? “Perhaps block planes are a carpenter’s tool, the way you prepare them.” I remain steadfast in my support for the idea.
Recently I had the opportunity to practice Block Plane Evangelism once again to a friend who is a relatively new woodworker, certainly new to fine quality woodworking. He mentioned that he had a raggedy Wally World block plane, so it was not a tool to inspire him. Taking one of my old Stanley 220 block planes down from the shelf, lapping the sole and cheeks, working the blade from ground zero up through an 8000 water stone, and cleaning and lubricating everything, I had a high-performance tool in about an hour.
I gave it to my friend, and I have no doubt it was a seed than will grow and blossom in short order.
So I challenge you to engage in a little Block Plane Evangelism, and if you do, let me know how it works for you.
My recent disagreement with the wheelbarrow has given rise to some introspection and contemplation, mostly about the fact that I am no longer as agile nor strong as I was forty years ago at 20. (Admittedly I have never really been that agile unless I had a basketball in my hand; I had some spin/post moves that could have taken me to the NBA. Unfortunately I chose the wrong parents and quit growing a foot too soon) Now, I could pout about that or be despondent with regret or refuse to acknowledge the situation and get angry, or I could accept reality for what it is and adapt to it. It was an easy choice as I am simply too lazy to be angry, much, and what little anger I do possess is pretty much consumed when reflecting on the ongoing demise of Western Civilization.
Yesterday brought one practical step in the right direction of adopting new strategies for remaining productive while revising downward the role of brute strength in said labors as I assembled and started using my new four-wheeled wheelbarrow, a/k/a the tilting dump wagon. From this point on I will do very little with Ace Wheelbarrow, probably moving leaves or dry mulch or similar non-dense materials, but when it comes to moving dirt, gravel, and firewood, my new buddy Gorilla Dump Cart Wagon and I will do the chore.
As for other chores, my times of spending the day at the top of a forty foot ladder are probably passed a well, and I will endeavor to find younger, stronger, and more agile men to hire for assistance around the homestead.
Gorilla and I will probably not be quite as fast as Ace and I were, but two-plus months of inactivity followed by an undetermined period of recuperation and regaining strength has a way of getting your attention. Plus, as my pastor once said during a memento mori-ish sermon, “Time is undefeated.”
Thus 2015 Anno Domini is now known as year 1 After Wheelbarrow.
This week is our first real cold snap of the season with overnight temps in the mid-20s. It was also the first chance to give my new 18,000 BTU propane heater a workout, albeit a fairly easy one. It was an unmitigated delight when I walked into the studio on the chilly morning to find it comparatively comfortable; it was 30 degrees outside and 40 inside, which is where I tried to set it (the controller is analog rather than digital so there is a bit of guess work involved at the beginning).
With real winter approaching fast I expect this heater to be a game changer. In the past I had never perfected the art of keeping the wood/coal stove in the basement going all night long, and while the residual heat remained, on really cold mornings it was a mite brisk to start the day. I often spent a good portion of the morning getting the heat up in the studio. I suspect that in the winter upcoming I will realize just how much time and effort I spent getting the place, time I can now spend more productively.
Though it has been delayed by the circumstances of my own bipedal limitations, it is now full firewood season in the mountains. For the past couple of weeks we have been moving the surplus in the lower barn from last winter, the worst on record for these parts, to the wood shed next to the front porch. Two stacks that were already in the area were left alone. Together this inventory will get us to about Christmas. We hope.
Thursday morning was the appointed time for my friend Bob to come and fell some more trees (about 15) for me to cut, split, and stack for heat on the back end of winter. About half of the trees were behind the pond, the others behind the barn up the hill. This second grouping is in part due to the need to thin the trees between the barn and the late afternoon winter sun, so that I can have light a little longer in the barn as otherwise in December and January I lose direct sun by about 3PM.
I must say that having my hip and leg recuperated adequately for working in the shop is not the same thing as being ready for traipsing up and down hills in my lumberjack’s boots while carrying a chain saw, fuel can and chain lube jug. When I stopped for the night my leg was a-howlin’. Two days later it is still pretty unhappy.
I’ll let you know how things went once I get done processing all this wood. The locals are promising a mild winter, and I would not object to that being the case.
The final presentation for WIA this year was by Vic Tesolin, on the topic of efficient hand work. I missed the very beginning of his demonstration as I was in Freddy Roman’s session on French Parquetry as he was pinch hitting for me.
As I walked into the room for Vic’s talk it was in the midst of a discussion, and he immediately told the crowd, “No, I don’t know the answer, but if anybody would know the answer it is the guy who just walked in.” So of course every eye turned my way, and of course I did not know the answer.
So Vic returned to his presentation of showing hand-work processes that were actually faster than machine work for many circumstances. It certainly confirmed a mindset evolution that has been in process with me for quite some time.
At one point Vic was asked if he eschewed machines and his response was priceless. “No, of course not. I love machines. I’m a guy!” Yup, Vic and I are old friends even though we met only recently.
By the way, Vic has a new book OUT TODAY, and I will be ordering several copies as soon as I remember where I put my wallet.
Following the book signing at the LAP booth my final stop of the day was Chris Schwarz’ session recounting the current state of his ongoing passion of research into traditional workbench forms. Though he often professes discomfort at public speaking, Chris always does a great job. At least that has been my direct observation.
This whirlwind sprint through two millennia worth of work hold benches was insightful, and given his active interest in the subject Chris always has some new material to offer.
It really is fascinating to see how the threads of craftsmanship interweave over the generations and centuries. I was once again struck by the similarities between the Roman benches of the First Century AD and the bench used by Maine polymath Jonathan Fischer.
I got a note today from an acquaintance who, on learning of my two prototypes being built for the workbench class next May, asked if I didn’t already have enough workbenches.
Hmm, interesting question. At this point I have only seven in the barn, or is it eight… Either way I think I will be maxxed out when I get to about 13 or 14.
The final morning of WIA was for me a Canadian bookend, with Tom Fidgen as the leadoff batter. He was speaking about his kerfing plane and its companion, the frame saw, for use in resawing stock as a matter of routine in his Unplugged Shop. I found his approach to be invigorating, and the demonstration was instrumental in my decision to make one of the kerfing saws myself (I already have a frame saw from my forays into Rouboland).
Over the winter I’ll be making my kerfing plane from a derelict plow plane body, and will be blogging about it as that occurs.
Tom’s presentation was what I like best about WIA — it creates or employs a new way of looking at doing, usually based on old ways of doing. Excellent innovation is often the result, and it was certainly the case with Tom.
Saturday afternoon we had scheduled a session where Narayan and Chris and I would all be at the Lost Art Press booth to sign copies of the HO Studley book and the new HO Studley video documentary. It was a reminder of how much I enjoy the company of these men and also John Hoffman, the other partner of LAP.
One of the secrets for the project is that although we worked very hard when on-site with the tool cabinet — 12 and 14 hour days were not uncommon — much of that time was spend needling each other and ridiculing the world at large and laughing with gusto. Chris and Narayan are exceedingly funny people, and even though I was occasionally the butt of the jokes it was okay because it was all so much fun.
And sitting alongside Narayan at WIA for a couple hours signing books and chatting I was reminded that of all the treasures related to the Studley Project, my friendship with Narayan that grew out of the project is perhaps that one I value the most. It joins the terrific relationship I have with Chris and John, making the collaboration with the LAP posse pretty much a delight.
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