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!