As I move forward assembling my tool kit for the upcoming 18th Century Trades Fair at my friend Tim’s place down in center county, I am beginning to pack out my vintage tool chest, acquired many years ago for almost nothing at one of Martin Donnelly’s summer warehouse-clearing shindigs up in central New York. The place to start was the drawer unit sliding till. Here goes.
Drawer #1 (sorry for the photography) contains several oilstones (waterstones and diamond stones need not apply for this kit) and a shop knife.
NB – the organization of the drawers remains in-process until, well, probably until I take my last breath.
Drawer #2 is all about layout tools, including small scales, dividers, mortise gauge and panel gauge parts, etc.
Drawer #3 is a mix, a small wooden spokeshave, another folding scale (clearly should be in drawer #2) a couple hook knives, a small hammer and a scraper burnisher.
Drawer #4 is the home for my chisels, including the pile of mortising chisels I made from derelict plow plane irons, some ancient bench chisels, and a couple homemade dovetail chisels.
Drawer #5 includes the set of brass Roubo-ish squares I made while preparing for that workshop years ago, along with a scraper in an envelope.
Drawer #6 is all about hole-making, including gimlets, spoon bits, tapers, some ancient twist bits, etc.
Drawer #7 has some small planes and a travisher.
There’s still an occasional and cranny, probably for a small screwdriver or two.
The first couple of times I taught Introduction to Historic Woodfinishing about forty years ago, I would send a “tools and supplies” list for the participants to acquire on their own, and indicated we would be working on their own projects and work exercises in the class. It did not take me long to realize that at least one person in the class would arrive with the wrong tools and supplies (usually making substitutions that were inadequate) or arrive without a project, in which case we were running around last minute to come up with some pieces of wood for them to work on.
A turned walnut spindle for each student to learn finishing on curved surfaces.
A pile o’ hardwood and luan plywood panels for each of the exercises.
Ever since then I have found the only way to fulfill the syllabus was to provide everything for every student, an undertaking that is not an inconsiderable resource sink. But, this way everyone gets the full experience I have planned for them. (I found the same hurdles to my Japanning classes and employed the same solutions.)
For the past several days I’ve been assembling all the necessaries for my upcoming class, including bins of work pieces, supplies, tools, and cases of jars. Among them is a couple hardwood panels (one mahogany, one cherry) to compliment the plywood panels that suffice for most class work. To that end I spent the day yesterday resawing six cherry panels (22″ x 11″ x 5/4″) and mahogany panels and am working through hand planing them. My approach is to usually flatten cross grain and finish along the grain.
I don’t know if it has been the recent months of absence from Shangri-la or the fact that I am completing my seventh decade, but this morning my shoulders and hips are barking. Loudly.
Nevertheless I enjoy immensely the shop floor aesthetics at the end of a very productive day.
Somewhere in the timeline of compewder games is one called Tetris, I think (I have zero interest in compewder games and am bewildered by anyone older than kindergarten spending any time in the endeavor. Seriously. Bewildered. But then I have little interest in games in general, much to Mrs. Barn’s dismay. Had she known of my antipathy to games and dancing ex ante we might not be celebrating out 43rd anniversary this Friday) that was in effect, to the best of my recollection, a spatial relationship contest to pack moving shapes into compact arrangements. Between my periodic undertaking of rearrangeritis in the barn (h.t. /James “Stumpy Nubs” Hamilton) I am finding myself playing Tetris while collecting and packing my inventory of 18th/19th Century configured tools for the upcoming Historic Trades shindig over Labor Day weekend at my friend TimD’s place in mid-county.
Somehow I’ve got to get all these tools put into this tool chest, itself probably late 19th Century although the form is a familiar one going back a couple of centuries previous. I’ve already got all the drawers of the till box filled, and have two dozen hand planes underneath it. In the coming days I will make another open/removable till to hold a pile o’ tools; I’ve already re-sawn the mahogany for that tray/box.
If I can come up with a treatment to remove this photo of an ultra-vintage motorcycle hard glued to the lid, I’ll send it to my long-time friend Jersey Jon of American Pickers fame. Until then it will remain in place as this out-of-time curiosity.
It does feel pretty great to get back into the shop.
This video resonated with me as it has been an area of contemplation for quite some time. A couple years ago Mrs. Barn attended an Eldercare event and they recommended that spouses discuss in detail their preferences for life in an assisted living arrangement or similar. When we were having this discussion about that far off day, she was astounded that my top ranked “deal breaker” was not what she expected — my pocket tool. My “deal breaker” was I would never willingly go into a care facility where I could not have my pocket knife/utility tool.
While the choices made in this video are thought provoking, they are probably not mine. For starters, the question arises, “Exactly what kind of work would I be doing in the old folks’ home?” A second attendant question would be, “Exactly what are the facilities and space available to me?”
Regardless of the second answer, the odds of me doing large scale woodworking or furniture making in an old folks’ home are pretty slim and my tool choices reflect that. It is more likely that I would be doing puttering and repairing, making very small things or fixing stuff for other folks. Plus, I’m thinking it would be a pretty rare circumstance where I would have access to a real workshop so my space would be my bedroom/sitting room and the furniture therein. (Obviously this assumes a transition from my own domicile to another facility). Hence, my choices would be very different than those in the video.
Of course, the list begins with my Victorinox Spirit multi-tool. Second would be a multi-screwdriver of the Stanley, Craftsman or Milwaukee variety, followed immediately by a pair of pliers or more likely small channel lock and adjustable wrench. Though these are not “woodworking tools” per se, they do provide a foundation for almost everything downstream. The scene with Walt and Toad regarding WD40 and channel locks in the movie Grand Torino summarizes the situation perfectly.
After that, again since my scenario is built on a premise of having only my bedroom or sitting room to work in, I would need a work holding set-up. For me that means either a Zyliss vise or a wood screw clamp. Add a block plane with two irons — one flat, the other cambered — a small Japanese saw, a small eggbeater drill or Yankee drill or similar, and a 3/8″ chisel and I would surprise myself at how much I could accomplish.
Though not the “5 Tools” as addressed by the video, I think these 10 Tools (combined with a nice plywood for a work surface, and some ultra fine wet-or-dry sandpaper in lieu of a sharpening stone) are the ones I would want in hand as I head to the geezer farm. In the meantime, I’ve still got the barn and its 7000 s.f of work and storage space, along with another barn just for lumber.
A component of my routine in the shop these days is surveying, sorting, and dispensing of the tools laying here, there, and everywhere. Now that I am in my 70th year and have two handy sons-in-law and soon to be two grandsons I am either dispensing or dispersing many of the tools immediately or presumptively. Genuine tool sets for L’il T and the soon-to-come Baby T (for Baby Tyrannosaurus, the moniker for L’il T’s baby brother in utero, I suspect the final name will be different) are well underway.
One of the treasures(?) I came across was yet another infill plane, a truly challenging project for the future. As near as I can tell none of the adjunct components belong together with the original chassis so I can assume great latitude in the restoration of the tool. It’s raggedy but solid, so the end result should be solid but less raggedy once I get around to bringing it back to life.
A few weekends ago I attended the PATINA monthly gathering, as always getting my tool-flea-market fix (I bought only a few small items) before going inside for the presentation on infill planes by Lee Richmond of The Best Things tools, towards whom I have sent very many dollars over the years.
The talk and Q&A were excellent and very informative and I learned a lot, particularly the history of infill plane kits that were available to craftsmen, and the prevalence of planemakers making tools to be marketed under other branding than their own. More about both points in a minute.
It got me wondering about my own inventory of infill planes which, when compiled, was more numerous than I initially thought. I don’t know why as these are tools I use regularly. I guess I just never thought of them in that way.
Here is my own collection, presented in no particular order.
The prize of my collection is my Robert Towell miter/shooting plane, probably from the second quarter of the 19th century. Towell was one of the makers who produced tools bearing his own imprint and sold from his own shop, along with unmarked planes sold by other purveyors. Mine is one of the latter, devoid of any maker’s marks but with all the hallmarks of his work. His planes were apparently of this form and are highly desirable by collectors, provided they bear his mark.
This image from the interwebz shows the maker’s mark that is missing on my plane. That lacunae is what made this plane affordable, otherwise the $5k price tag would have been beyond the realm of consideration for me. And, Mrs. Barn would have probably killed me…
Since mine is unmarked, it was “affordable” to me (still pricey by my standards but only 10% of the price had it borne his stamp) and I bought it from a flea market session at Martin Donnelly’s about 20 years ago. The throat is so tight (about 1/3 mm) I find the only useful purpose it has for me is trimming the end grain of boards on a shooting jig.
Contemporary tool maker Raney Nelson of Daed Tools made a series of Towell-inspired planes maybe 20 years ago and I got it through trading some other materials and tools for it, otherwise I could have never afforded it.
Like Towell and Raney’s friend Konrad Sauer the construction is hammered dovetails, with I think African Blackwood as the infill. I really should ask him more about this tool the next time our paths cross, as they do occasionally.
It’s just a bit too small to use as a block plane, but perfect for small shooting tasks. This plane might have evolved into the “collectible” realm as I am not sure how much plane making Raney does any more since he and Chris Schwarz started Crucible Tools.
This still-under-restoration smoother is one of those Richmond said was probably a kit of sorts, with the metal shell being sold as a chassis for a woodworker to make the wooden infill components. I got this late 19th century tool in a box lot of other derelict tools at a flea market, devoid of iron or wedge, looking like at had a stint inside a concrete mixer. I cobbled it together as a functioning plane after restoring the totally trashed wooden infills, ebonizing them and leaning the steel shell.
I was never really happy with the wedge or the iron I dug out of my spare parts drawer, so I asked my friend Josh Clark to look through his inventory to see what he had. I soon received a really nice double iron in the mail that fits the sole mouth very tightly and have been puttering on making a wedge off and on ever since. If I have success with a wooden wedge I just might make another out of ivory. Just because I can.
For many years Ron Hock used to sell kits to make planes, and this started as one of those. The maker in this instance was my friend Joe who gave it to me 15(?) years ago for reasons I can no longer recall. It was a very nice plane but underweight for what I wanted.
During the first Roubo manuscript I modified it with heavy brass cheeks and a bit of stylizing to use it as a veneer/parquetry shooting plane.
Some years ago at a Lie-Nielson event I bought this infill plane from Mateo Panzica of Lazarus Planes in Louisville KY. His fabrication approach is almost 180 degrees opposite from Towell and Nelson but you cannot argue with the results.
This weighty smoother is simply superb and gets regular use at my bench, perhaps more than any plane (other than my sleigh-style block plane that is going into the grave with me, unless of course it goes to L’il T or his brother). If I needed more new planes I would probably divide my money between Lazarus and Steve Voigt, although the Lasso of Truth would reveal I do not really need any more. (Other than a toother from Steve Voigt, if he ever gets them to market).
An infill I made all by my lonesome is this plane designed specifically for, and not useful otherwise to tell you the truth, shooting the edges of sawn parquetry elements. I saw Paterick Edwards demonstrate a vintage version of this plane at Williamsburg several years ago and decided I had to have one myownself.
I started out with a derelict one-inch rabbet plane body and beveled one side, then silver soldered the brass shell. I am really pleased with its performance.
The next morning I demolded the first half of the silicon rubber for MattC’s hammer head. I cleaned all the surfaces of any residual clay from the embedding. I spread a parting agent (petroleum jelly) over all of the silicon mold surfaces and reassembled the first half mold including the original wooden master pattern and the attendant elements. [Sorry for the blurry pic — note to self, do not drop your camera on the concrete floor, it don’t work so good after that)
Reconstructing an identical plastic brick dam, I repeated the mixing and Matt poured the liquid silicon molding material and we let it sit again overnight to harden.
Once the entire rubber mold was separated and cleaned it was ready to go for making wax models for lost wax casting. I did cast one wax pattern and saw that I needed to expand the sprues a little with a scalpel. Had I used a larger piece of wire or tubing there would not have been a problem.
Just for the heck of it I walked him through the process for casting pewter directly into the mold, which requires depositing powdered graphite on all the cast surfaces to reduce the surface tension of the molten metal. I mimicked the process with wax and he got a kick out of the metallic-looking wax pattern.
At this point I turned the mold over to Matt to proceed with the enterprise from his end. My work was done.
I recently picked up this little jewel from my friend JohnD, now a full-time tool monger in his retirement. The scale of this English-marked saw is fascinating, as is its form. Especially intriguing is the saw plate is only 0.012″ thick! While pistol-grip handles are fine I generally prefer a round handle for smaller tools, and my first (c. 1970) and still-favorite dovetail saw is of this form.
This little saw may be perfect for the petite work I often do, making boxes and drawers from 1/4″-3/8″ stock. The teeth are worn, in the center they are worn away, so I will have to flatten the tooth-edge and re-cut the teeth. Time to grab my surgical binoculars. It is currently configured at 42 (!) t.p.i., I will likely reconfigure it for 32 t.p.i.
If this works out well, I will almost certainly make a new one or two or three, so that one is ready for both Li’l T and his soon-to-arrive brother. Ordering materials from McMaster-Carr is just another day ending in “Y” here in the mountains.
PS After a crazy hectic three months this is the first honest-to-goodness week of work in the barn shop. It feels pretty good.
Many of you are, like me, familiar with, and probably partakers in, the “tailgating” tool flea markets that are fairly common around MWTCA meetings, tool auctions, and the like. I might only spend a minute or two per year buying clothes and shoes, but I can sink days into scrounging for tools. I carry the same mindset to almost every yard sale or thrift store I encounter, and often with more strategic buys in mind.
In fact, all of my workspaces are chock full of yard sale and thrift store resources. I’ve had a pretty good stretch of useful acquisitions lately.
Here are some treasures from a recent event, a community yard sale just before winter got here. In a few minutes and for a few dollars, I came home with this booty.
My first treasure was this collection of assorted tacks, of which I bought six boxes for $1. I am always on the lookout for vintage fasteners, and this box is the type of assorted tacks that was common in hardware stores in the 1950s and 1960s. At some point when I get bored enough I will sort the contents of the boxes, ranging from 1/4″ in length to 1″.
Grinding shellac anyone? I don’t like coffee, never have. But coffee grinders, especially one for 50 cents? There’s always space for them as I use them to grind up shellac, resin beads, whatever.
What in the world can I do with cake and jello molds? Well, there is a lacquerwork technique I want to experiment with, using my epoxy fauxrushi. This technique involves draping strips or sheets of impregnated fabric over a mold, then demolding after hardening. The molds will have to be sized with whiting first, but they are a terrific testing opportunity for the idea. If my memory is intact this stack was $1.
Since I use heat for a lot of functions involving wax or glue, old timey electric irons are just the tool for a lot of applications. These were $2 a piece. In the original boxes no less.
Since I melt wax a lot, and even more in the near future as I delve again into lost wax metal casting, I’ve found that using coffee pots are darned near perfect for material handling. I can melt wax on a hot plate with these beauties, and then pour into whatever form or mold I’m using for whatever project I am creating. I got these four for a buck apiece.
Perhaps my biggest prize, both conceptually and physically, was this very large turkey roasting pan. What in the world do you need with a turkey roasting pan? (Mrs. Barn asked me the very same question). Well, when steaming the wax out of a ceramic investment mold, that is “Losing the wax” in lost-wax metal casting, you gotta invert the investment mold and steam out the wax. This roasting pan is just perfect for the largest investment shell I will ever do. I shelled out big bucks for this one, $4. And worth every penny.
Fifteen minutes, fourteen and a half dollars. Not a bad way to spend a little time and money on the way home from the post office.
PS – between the wedding, and Christmas, and family visits going in both directions, and preparing the Maryland house for new occupants, I don’t think I’ve spent a dozen hours in the shop doing any real work since the beginning of November. “If only I can get past this next thing,” I tell myself… But there is always another dozen things waiting in line.
My first efforts for the new tool box addressed the empty canvas of the lid verso. As with the retrofitting of the large vintage tool chest for my 18thC tool demos (more about that much later) I decided the underside of the lid would be a good place for the saws that did not neatly fit elsewhere in the toolbox. So, I made some fittings and hung the saws there.
The first step in this was to trim the tip of the lovely little panel saw that was oversized by about a half inch. By rounding the top corner of the saw tip it fit the space diagonally just right.
The size and configuration of the exquisite Knew Concepts saw frame made it a problematic fit in the inner space, so it wound up being hung here as well. It was overlaid on the panel saw and my re-fashioned Tyzak dovetail saw was inserted in-between. The void in the center of the coping saw was just right for the DelVe square to hang right there.
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