Provide Your Own Dirty Puns

Gratuitous photos of me operating the wide-belt sander. Good exercise for the shoulders, in fact!

Load the wood in . . . 

Guide the wood out . . . 

 Do you love my gloves? They're simultaneously butch and prissy.

I Lathe You

I finished turning my first table leg last night. Like several other skills and techniques I have learned in the wood shop, this one is not at all transferable to my later life. But, lathing is rather therapeutic. Unlike other stations in the shop, lathing does not permit one to help others loading their boards into and out of the planer or table saw. It requires a very near focus, specifically on the visible edge of your working piece. Slow, gentle, and repetitive movements are required to avoid introducing flaws. And, it only involves one round of sweeping (vacuuming, even!) at the end of the night.

Like the wide belt sander, it is apparently magical. It transforms one ugly, ungainly wood product into something you might actually buy, or at least bring into the house. Unlike the wide belt sander, the lathe requires a lot of participation from the operator. Oh, and it's a bit dangerous!

While experimenting with the skew chisel, I jammed it into the line where two boards are glued together, and a two-inch chunk of wood flew into my face and impaled my cheek. Now, that sounds much gorier than it really was. It did stick into my face. I did have to pull it out. But, the damage was only three tiny cuts. From the evidence that remains, you'd never guess what happened.

But without further ado: here is my first table leg, along with a reminder of its improbable origins!

16 boards, glued together in stacks of four, and clamped overnight.

Drumroll please . . .

The octagonal chunk at the bottom will be sawed off.
The octagonal chunk at the top stays in place,
and affixes the leg to the table beneath the "skirt."

It was hard to design this piece for several reasons. One reason is that the instructor had me build my legs out of four pieces of 2x6 glued together, which makes them much more massive than ordinary legs. In fact, all the other students in the class are using three pieces of 2x6 lumber glued together. Another reason it was difficult is that I didn't want to go for a lot of ornament, certainly not a lot of "country kitchen" style knobs and spools. No other table in our house has turned legs, and certainly not ornate legs.

So, in order to keep things streamlined, modern, and fine, I decided on a design inspired by my puppy's hind legs, which I find very elegant. Springy, strong, and delicate all at once, with pretty and proper little toes. See?

Not exactly illustrative, but darn cute!

The socialization level is through the roof tonight. Could this class be . . . fun???

Clip: Bored

The past two weeks have revealed that the hundreds of half-empty boxes of nails and bottles of glue are not the extent of disorganization in the workshop. With some 19 students remaining in the class, there are numerous projects happening, all along the same approximate timeline. This has created serious bottlenecks, first for the jointer, then the planer, then the table saw, then the clamps and work benches. For the past four sessions, I have spent far more time waiting for machines - and helping others move their lumber around the crowded, cluttered room - than working on my project.

Now, this problem is more frustrating than harmful. We have until Thanksgiving to finish these projects, and once the wood is machined, the assembly should be relatively straightforward. (How long does it take you, after all, to put together an Ikea table?) Meanwhile, my Monday and Wednesday nights alternate between rushed minutes of wood handling, and long hours of tedium.

Got Legs

You are gonna be surprised when you find out how table legs are actually made. Here are your first clues:

The Desktop of the Future

Surprisingly compact, but sparing nothing in functionality and features!

From such humble origins! There is nothing* that can't be made out of construction lumber with heavy machinery and elbow grease.

A desk foreshadowed. But, that big gap proves the jointer isn't magic. There will be work. Work work work.

 Click through to see last night's progress!

I'm not gonna be modest: sawdust is, like +10,000 in hotness.

" Two hours into class, and I have jointed one board face and one board edge. The problem isn't lack of equipment, it's lack of organization. Things will be different when I take over!

Stop Being Polite

Remember when The Real World emerged back in the early 90s? A "soap opera" with no script, no actors, no story - just life. An idea so crazy it just might work! And, the "sell" (Stop being polite and start being real) may be the phrase that gave "reality" TV its now-ironic name.

That phrase has been in my mind this week, characterizing as it does two things: First, a jumble of people with no plot but their own lives in media res. Second, the end of preparation time and the beginning of the main event.


In class, we had our first tests. We had to identify 10 parts of a jointer, 8 parts of a planer and 13 parts of a table saw. It was scary! We adults are not often on the spot to quickly answer questions in an area far outside our expertise.


It was also illuminating (at least entertaining) to watch my classmates various approaches to the tests. Being back in school, as I've noted before, is like being an anthropologist studying your own past. The Ivy League baseball player was deliberate and unhurried, and intentionally turned his paper in last, in case one last correction should come to mind. The medical resident declined to take it at all until she had a chance to review the material and practice all over. The 19-year-old construction worker showed up 20 minutes late and rushed through it, then cheated. (Not that it matters, after all. This is continuing education, not the bar exam!)


I've never been in a group - through school or work or anything else - with such diversity. Not even MTV could come up with such a diverse and incompatible mix. I guess power tools are the great bond of humankind.


On Wednesday, I used the miter saw for the first time. I chopped the hell out of some 2x6's. (Sorry I failed to take pictures of my first work outputs.) I watched a demonstration of constructing table legs. I haven't reached the point where I honestly believe all this lumber going to turn into a piece of furniture, but I had better get faith soon, or all the money I spent at Lowe's is down the drain.


Michael and I also closed on our first house this week. On the one hand I keep thinking, "How did we end up here?!" Not just here, Durham, geographically - though that itself is a trick of fate. But here in our lives, two people with no biographical intersection before the day we met. What we share through coincidence and co-creation is awesome and improbable. Is this some kind of cosmic experiment? or joke? or mistake? Here we are, getting real!


And all our fantasies about a domestic life and becoming a family are crashing to earth in an alarming cascade of reality checks and good-enough compromises. If we want wainscoting, we are going to have to order it! Stair treads! Countertops! What's the budget for upstairs flooring? Appliances? Tuition? Family vacations?


The "reality" that New York City promised to the first housemates of The Real World was a condition of unmediated responsibility and risk. Everybody in carpentry class has a similar drive - to be free from paying contractors to build your shed, free from spending your life in front of a computer screen, free to get it all wrong, cut off your finger, and waste your own money. And, rounding out this three-way comparison, owning a home is all about a risky freedom, too - freedom to paint the walls a crazy color (or knock them down!) and win or lose when it comes time to sell. The process of getting a mortgage is very much a weeks-long test of one's maturity and capacity to handle all this freedom.


This weekend we'll be moving, and we have a team of parents, siblings, and friends to help. This is going to be a true story... of nine people.. tapped to box up our house ...work together and have their lives disrupted... and we are definitely going to find out what happens... when people stop being polite... and start getting real!

Too Much of Good Things

So, last Friday night I was kickin' it preppy-style with my homegirl in Cambridge, Mass., just reading Martha Stewart Living and having a good laugh (a picture of four dozen French ivory flatware settings that "Martha uses daily" drew guffaws) - tempered of course by all the genuinely brilliant and beautiful ideas in the annual Decorating issue.

That smile, plus a fistful of knives - is making me uneasy.

For the most part, the advice boils down to three simple rules:

1. Have a bigger kitchen.
2. Have more money.
3. Use the money to have an even bigger kitchen.

For example, it is stated as a rule that you should have two islands rather than one. And, that "an island must be at least 4 feet long and 2 1/2 feet wide." Anything Martha offers is taken with a grain of salt after learning that she "collects vintage enamel holders" for sponges and has a servery - a special room where dishes are stored and cleaned. How handy!

Rise of the Machines

I was deeply disappointed to learn that a Jointer does not cut joints. I imagined a fast and simple device for cutting rabbets, dados, and finger joints. Alas, the machine does none of these well, and only potentially rabbets at all. Rather, it shaves the edge of a board to allow it to be joined (jointed?) to another board. The joint is up to the woodworker, not the machine.

The Planer is also a bit of an underachiever. It only takes off approximately 1/16 of an inch at a time.You don't just load a big ol' board into the machine and get a smooth, rectangular plank out the other side. There is locking and unlocking, quarter turns and full turns, even a sophisticated system of sorting your raw and finished lumber - perhaps some day you'll learn these formularies.

The whole sequence of joining and planing steps is one of those practices best learned and then subsequently understood. Its logic is intrinsic, and hard to explain. 'First, plane the "working face," bowed up. Then, join the "working edge," crooked up.' With concentration and patience - if only a few minutes' worth - the process can be analyzed. The learning elicits inevitable dumb questions, just because the brain - my brain anyway - is too eagerly trying to verbalize what it will soon - but does not yet - grasp.

http://wondermark.com/649/

All of the Above

Thanks to being the last student to finish my chiseling/hand-sawing project last night (slow but tidy!), I got plenty of time with the Instructor to review my project ideas. I said I was worried that the shelves might be too simple while the desk might be too complicated.

Pish tosh! They are both entirely reasonable! Reasonable and exciting! And, I am going to attempt to do both!

One of the great things about the shelf project, noted the Instructor, is the opportunity to carve many angled mortise-and-tenon joints. Could anything in the world sound more severely artisanal than that?!

http://www.dummies.com/how-to/content/tending-to-mortiseandtenon-joints.html

Anticipation Aides

We are closing on our new house in eight days, which is a torturous amount of time for anticipation.

One of the toughest things (noted earlier) is the difficulty of thinking about the space without living in the space. The quality of planning is at its nadir, while the passion for planning is at its apex.

As we look forward to more-than-doubling our space, there are not only projects but purchases to contemplate. Here are a few beautiful and inspiring things that have me excited today:

Durham's most nationally renowned interior designer offers a project that suits our style beautifully:

http://www.heathergarrettdesign.com/portfolio/residential-portfolio/2010/02/young-tradition

Apartment Therapy rounds up lower- (and higher-) priced alternatives to the Fermob and Tolix chairs I covet:
http://www.apartmenttherapy.com/ny/at-email/best-outdoor-dining-chairs-2010-118835

Remodelista addles my brain with a surfeit of great ideas:
http://remodelista.com/posts/steal-this-look-low-cost-kitchen
and
http://remodelista.com/shop/storage/shelving?view=99

Narrowing Minded

Tonight, our initial project sketches are due. The Instructor has cautioned us repeatedly to consider our skills, talents, experience and budget, as well as the limited space and time available in the workshop.

I have ruled out a dining table, as Michael and I remain unsure what size and shape we will want, and we think it would be best to spend some time in the space before making a big move. As the Instructor has also noted - this first project is sure to be flawed - perhaps not seriously flawed, but flawed nonetheless. So, don't make it a project whose perfection is paramount.

As I've noted before, a custom desk for our new library/den/guest room would be terrific. We anticipate using this as our primary tv-watching space, as well as our work space during the day. I haven't seen a desk that is designed to accommodate a work surface as well as open storage for the Blu-Ray player, cable box and receiver. I did some really rough sketches last night, and one upside of this project is that it could be simplified if and as time runs out and things look difficult. It could have two or four electronics cubbies. It could have a raised hutch or not.

Box in a Box

A brief trip to New York has a few noteworthy effects. It reminds me that, given my work and travel responsibilities, I have no time for a hobby, and I certainly have no time to learn a craft. But, I am undeterred!

It also reminds me of my first true carpentry project, this half-assed bed I built for our funny little apartment on 2nd Avenue. We bought 2x4s and sheets of 1/2-inch plywood at Lumber Century, the odd hardware store at the corner of 97th and 2nd Ave, and carried them three blocks by hand, which was far more exhausting than expected. (Carrying all six pieces of our living-room sectional was far easier.) I believe we paid about $200 for essentially one sheet of plywood, ripped in half, and two 2x4s cut into four boards - a small price to pay for a thrilling if fleeting sense of accomplishment! My co-designer was a civil engineer whose experience with materials did not translate into expertise with furniture.

In the picture below, this bed was brand-new. Two simple platforms that could be easily moved in and out of an apartment. You can't see the mattress-snagging screwheads sticking out here and there, but I had screwed the whole thing together without guideholes (or measurements!). I never finished the project as intended by installing a cross-brace. Consequently, within weeks the whole thing was a sloppy, saggy mess.

But, we slept on it for four years. If the M15 stop outside our window wasn't going to keep us awake, neither was a shoddy bed! This past Christmas, we gave ourselves a proper bed - made of aluminum.

Soak 'Em

What part of the $200,000 paid for an extravagant fishtank goes to the cabinetmaker? This article is either a sign of the end-times or brilliant career advice. Or both - someone is gonna capitalize on the apocalypse!
  
The Six-Figure Fish Tank Catches On

That Guy. You know who I mean.

During our first class meeting, after hearing about the cost and quality benefits of buying lumber from remote lumber yards with unfinished hardwood boards, one brave (God bless her!) student asked, "Do any of these places deliver?"

At first the Instructor smirked a bit, but then tempered that as, of course, this is a legitimate, reasonable and serious question. No, they do not. But, he suggested, some one or more of the classmates may have a pickup truck or SUV and be willing to share shopping and carting trips.

Given the reticence of the class that first night, it struck me that it would be a long time - perhaps too long - before folks started meeting and coordinating. So I took the liberty of setting up a message board on Google Groups. I meant to announce it last night, but didn't have the gumption. I don't want to be That Guy. You know that guy. I also worried that it could come across as condescending - even toward the Instructor who may or may not have any interest in the Interwebs.

I did turn out to be That Guy in the pencil department last night. No one brought pencils. Not even the Instructor. Who goes to carpentry class without a pencil? I had three with me, and that turned out to be the whole supply.

So, there was sharing. Maybe the pencil shortage will turn out to be the ice breaker we needed.

Which do you choose, a hard or soft option?

We have been urged to choose a project by next Monday's class, and to bring a crude sketch.

I am still overwhelmed by the options. I talked to the Instructor about a dining table. Although he has discouraged it in the past - because it is a large project in a crowded workshop, and we don't have the tools to properly turn a round tabletop and would have to wing it - I did detect in his eyes a glimmer, as if he would relish the challenge of "making it work" against these challenges.

Michael is encouraging me to make a desk for our new den/library. What we need for that room will, in fact, need to be custom made because of the functions we want it to possess - doubling as a media console and a work surface. Access to a well-equipped workshop could be a unique opportunity to do this for ourselves. And, it has the advantage of containing no round parts, only right angles, a more comfortable match for the workshop and my minimal skills.

In that same vein, though, we learned about the marketing of finished hardwood lumber last night (all merchants charge heavily for machining and even surfacing), and also watched a demonstration of the workshop's planing and sanding tools. This leads me back to the idea of simply machining beautiful hardwood shelves to use throughout the house, as (lacking such heavy equipment at home) this could be a chance to save a lot of money, even if we don't install these shelves immediately - or, for that matter, even know where they're going!

Not Afraid of Fear Itself

There is a certain comfort in having one's fear realized. Such an experience confirms that your anxiety was rational, not paranoid, and it can also breach a defense that would be tiring to maintain. Last night I really revealed my inexperience and uncertainty, but at the same time freed myself to take up a learner's role without pretense or reservations.

Since I first considered taking carpentry class, I knew I would struggle with measuring and math. Of course, I do these things every day! But, at home, there is no embarrassment in measuring, remeasuring, re-remeasuring, and drawing a dozen diagonal lines on a 2x4 to gradually discern a right angle. Additionally, one of my worst math skills is subtracting with fractions - Good God, let there be metrics! - which was revealed to be a core competency required for last night's project, and for the whole practice of carpentry in North America.

In a week, this little board will feature a box joint, blind mortise, through mortise, hinge recess, dado joint and rabbet!

On the Other Hand

There is nothing - NOTHING! - more tedious than watching someone grind, sharpen, hone and polish a chisel, from beginning to end. On the upside, we are going to start using hand saws in 10 minutes!

A Dream Deferred

Instructor says that all woodworking in this course will be based on right angles only. I suppose this eliminates the prospect of building an traditional round vineyard table as my project. Alas.

Is It a Closet or an Armoire?

At the end of our first class meeting, I introduced myself to the instructor with a question which was in fact too individual to be helpful to the entire class. Specifically, I asked, "How long do pine planks for wainscoting need to be acclimated to the room where they'll be installed?" (Conditioning, moisture, and acclimatization were major issues in the first lecture.)

As I walked up, though, he was telling a few other students to be thinking soon and seriously about their projects. As he turned to me, he observed my wedding ring and said, "You're married, you have nothing to worry about! Your wife will have plenty of ideas for you!"

Dropped in the Shop

At the end of our first lecture, after two or three long, awkward breaks in the long, mostly awkward presentation on the otherwise scintillating topic of lumber, our instructor informed us that we'd spend the remainder of the allotted time cleaning the workshop in preparation for the semester ahead.

He framed this with a tone familiar to summer campers and army recruits - the cleaning of the workshop being offered as a combination of orientation and hazing, at the end of which we would have not only a clean place to enjoy but a "sense of ownership" over its contents and condition.

Even if we'd had not hours but days to "clean" this workshop, we would hardly have made a dent in the mess. Piles of nails lay about in piles of sawdust. A tool cabinet's doors swung open giving glimpses of a heaping melange of squares, chisels, mallets, and even more nails. Boxes of nails tumbled off shelves, spilling yet more nails on table tops, stacks of broken rods and boards, and countless half-used bottles of wood glue. I was happy to have brought my work gloves for picking up fist-fulls of nails.

White Board White Noise

So the lecture portion of our first class meeting contained nuggets of great Value embedded in a matrix of Totally Boring.

This is neither surprising nor disappointing - it is always difficult to get a class going from zero. Then again, our instructor introduced himself only by saying, "I've been doing this for 30 years, and this is my full-time job." So, one might have imagined he'd be very prepared to make our first night especially rewarding and engaging. (On the other hand, he seems to be hoping for some attrition, as our 25-member class is somewhat too large for the workshop space.)

When I was in college, I taught my first classes (adult religious education, if you must know), and my very wise mentor gave me this advice: the first thing you can tell people is the location of the restroom. They will be more at ease. And you will have started on the right foot, by saying with confidence a thing that you know for sure!

Last night's lecture focused on wood - types of wood, measuring wood, issues related to wood quality, and how/where to buy it.

Wanna Be Starting Something

It has been eight years since I attended an fully operationalized educational institution.

I have attended four colleges of various types, sizes, and degrees of excellence, counting the deep-fried Southern Baptist university I first tried (and flunked out), the community college where I bode my time while living at home and getting my act together, the respectable second-tier urban university where I finally finished my bachelor's degree, and the graduate school of art where I ran up 90% of my current debt.

And now, I'm at number five. (I don't add the clinic where I studied psychoanalysis to the list, as it would be unrecognizable to anyone as a "school.") I enrolled this week in the Building Trades program at my hometown's technical and community college.

Missed Connections

Back when I was a "traditional" student, the beginning of each school term meant tedious visits to a range of administrative offices - the registrar, the bursar, financial aid and campus security.

Deep in the 21st century, registration and finance are handled via our modern electronic media, including the wondrous Fax Machine. (I am poking fun at low-tech community college - But still! This is more technology than the old days of registering by 'automated' phone system, or paying tuition in person!)

This year, a personal, in-the-flesh trip to the Campus Security office is still required for the acquisition of a student I.D., which my new school refers to bizarrely as a "Colleague I.D." (I pray that is not merely a pervasive misspelling of College.) Campus Security also confers a parking tag during the same visit, a gesture of noteworthy efficiency, in my opinion.