Saw Storage Upgrade

Recently I decided to change the way I store some of my saws. My old way was working fine, but I was ready for an upgrade that would make me happier. First let's look at how I had been doing things.

I organize the saws in my shop into two groups: those used with the saw bench, and those used at the main workbench.

The first group live in my saw till:


I'm not going to change the till. I'm very happy with it. It hangs on the wall near my saw bench, and keeps the saws conveniently within reach. These are rip and cross cut hand saws. Why so many? Well, having various ppi, set, length etc. can sure add up. But honestly, I'd have to say that five of these saws handle some 95% of my work at the saw bench.

The second group of saws consists of cross cut and rip backsaws, dovetail saw, coping saws, a funky compass saw, hack saws, and some Japanese style pull saws and my turning and frame saw. Most of these saws hang on a wall panel at one end of my bench (the bow and frame saws hang on the wall next to the panel).

Here's a shot of the panel I've been using for years:


When I first decided to make the panels for tool storage in my shop, I went with peg board because I liked the idea of easily rearranging the tools as my collection grew. But I've always disliked the metal peg board hooks. I just don't like the way they look. So I made my own holding devices out of wood and attached them with screws from the back. The grid of holes made spacing and keeping things level easy.

Here's an image of the empty panel showing the various holding devices:


And here's a shot of the back showing the screws and washers:


This method has worked very well, and I highly recommend it to anyone looking for an affordable, relatively pleasant looking, easy to build, customizable, tool storage system.

But the peg board had served its purpose. After years of use and adjustment, I knew what I wanted and how best to arrange it - for me it was time to move on. My new panel would be solid wood and much nicer to look at on a daily basis.

I'll talk about the new panel in my next post.

Kaija's Project

Over the holidays, my niece Kaija worked on a project in the shop. She made a "grease pot" a la Roy Underhill, although I don't think hers will hold tallow.

We pretty much followed Roy's method (which you can watch here) with a few minor changes. I made one as well, staying one step ahead, to use as a tester for problem solving. Kaija did all her own work and was a very fast learner. We had a blast - I can't wait to do it again!

I think I'll let the pictures tell the story (click for larger views):

Shop Apprentice

Well, I haven't been out in the shop much lately, but I did sign on an apprentice to help with the back-log of work.

Here he is organizing some scrap wood:


He's quite the quick study - giving orders already:

Curious Rabbet Plane

This funky little rabbet plane arrived in the mail the other day. I saw it last week on eBay, and though I really didn't need it, there was something quirky about it that I liked. So I put in a low ball bid and won.


The first thing I noticed when I got my hands on it was that not all the decorative surface line carvings were actually carved. Some of them were drawn on in ink. And some were actually joints in the wood. Huh?

A closer look revealed that the top was composed of three layers of wood laminated together. The center layer is an extension of the bottom of the plane. I don't think you can see that in the following pictures, so you're just going to have to trust me:




So the body of this plane is really made of six separate pieces of wood. The lower section with the attached upper center layer was cut into two parts to create the mortise for the iron. Then the two cheeks were attached and the two parts of the sole "boxing" were added. For some reason I thought laminated planes were a relatively new idea. Hmm.


I also discovered that the "boxing", which I first thought was purpleheart, was in fact some strange material. Bakelite? Masonite? I'm not sure.

Here are a couple of shots of the throat area of the plane. You can clearly see the glue lines where the separate pieces of wood (birch?) are laminated:



At 8 1/2" long, it's shorter than my other rabbet planes, but works great after I sharpened the iron. With no maker's mark or owner's marks, it's hard to judge the age. My feeling is that it is on the old side, although the laminated construction is confusing. All my other rabbet planes are made from a single piece of wood. But, I did just see another old rabbet plane on eBay which looked like it might also be of laminated construction (and it too had a "boxed" sole), so maybe laminated rabbet planes are an old tradition and I just never noticed them before? And I did see a plane with very similar surface markings that also had a "Germany" stamp on it, so maybe this is European?

Overall, it's a nice little plane that arouses my curiosity. Anyone have any insights or ideas on this? I'd love to hear them.

Two Gifts From the Shop

The last post focused on process, so to keep things fair this post will be all about product. Okay, fairness has nothing to do with it really - I was just so pressed for time finishing these gifts before Christmas that I didn't take a single picture of making them. In fact, I didn't take a picture of Rebecca's frame at all, but she graciously took a picture of it hanging on her living room wall down in Oregon.

Here it is:


It's an Oxford frame, and very similar to the one I posted about in the past. There are two differences: this frame has angled rail ends; and the cross-lap joints where offset so that the stiles project slightly. And yes, that's more oak salvaged from the library chair.

The second project was a trivet for my wife Celena:


And a detail shot:


While I did enjoy the shop time spent making these gifts, on these projects the final product was what it was all about. Which makes sense, since these were gifts, the recipients didn't really benefit directly from the process.

A New Post, Wherein;

~ Our narrator, succumbing to the vain allurements of folly and fashion, steps into frame ~ The gross effects of holiday overeating are revealed and laid bare for comments, criticisms and judgment ~ A new sawing technique is demonstrated for the first time (in these annals) ~ A brother, unspoiled by praise or blame, heroically takes up the camera and performs admirably ~ A stout oaken plank is bent to the will of the craftsman ~ A dogsled is returned to trail readiness ~ And - Only Hand Tools Are Used!

Umm...sorry. Got carried away there. A combination of Rex Beach's "The Silver Horde" (1909) and "Fifteen Thousand Useful Phrases" by Grenville Kleiser (1917). Dreadfully sorry. I shall endeavor to contain myself...

Earlier today I responded to a comment on a previous post where a reader had stated that I clearly enjoy all aspects of making something out of wood. I agreed, saying that sometimes I enjoy the process more than the product. This post is a perfect illustration of how the process can trump the product - which in this case was nothing more than a rectangular stick with a half-dozen holes drilled in it.

My brother Josh, a recreational dog musher, asked if I could help him fix one of his broken sleds, and I happily agreed. So, the week before Christmas, Josh and his daughter Kaija came over to visit the shop (Kaija actually had her own project to work on - but that's a future post). One of the oak sled stanchions had broken after an abrupt meeting with a spruce tree. Actually, it's more complicated than that, but Josh isn't here right now and that's my version of what happened.

Here's a shot of the part to be replaced:


Josh brought a lenght of oak that was just big enough to form the new stanchion. The main job here was ripping, so the trusty Disston D-8 was called for:



This was one awkward board to rip - hard to hold on the edge of the saw bench, and too narrow for the slot down the middle. I ended up starting it at an angle across the bench and had to stop frequently to readjust - and avoid cutting into the bench.


As I got closer to the end of the rip, I reverted to my normal stance. When discussing the use of this saw bench before, I've tried to describe this position in words, but a picture is better:


At the very end of the board a chunk had been cut out for some past project. The gauge line almost, but not quite intersected this void. Of course, I could have stopped ripping and just planed this slightly wider section down to the line, but where is the challenge in that? Time to put theoretical knowledge into practice! I decided to flip the saw around, sit on the board, and try my hand(s) at overhand ripping:


Hmm, I have been eating too much...

Anyway, it worked better than I would have guessed:


After that I cleaned up the rip and straightened the edge with a jointer plane.


Hey, isn't that a plump grizzly bear chowing down on an enormous cream cheese covered bagel on my shirt? Fitting - isn't it...

Josh provides the obligatory shavings shot:


I used an awl to transfer the holes from the existing part to the new one...


...and then bored the smaller holes with a hand drill...


...and the larger hole with a brace and bit:


After that it was just a matter of bolting it into place. Here's Josh working on that:


So, a thoroughly enjoyable process that yielded a completely mundane product. Cool.

Of course, when joined to its other mundane friends, that part becomes a sled capable of the extraordinary process of mushing. Hmm.

Making Handles for New Tools

Wow, the holidays sure are crazy! I've been so busy that I haven't done a post in almost two weeks. Ironically, I've actually been in the shop quite a bit working on several projects. In the beginning I was taking pictures to use for a couple of posts, but by the end, I was so crazed trying to finish up two Christmas presents that I didn't slow down enough to even think about taking pictures. Maybe I'll do a short "final product" post on those gifts...

But today I could relax in the shop, and I used my time to make handles for three new tools my wonderful wife gave me for Christmas: two Japanese milled-tooth files and a Nicholson #49 pattern maker's rasp. Yes!


I dug up some birch for the handles...


...and split it into rough blanks with a hatched and maul.


I cleaned up the blanks with a scrub plane and spokeshave. Then I found some copper fittings to use for the ferrules, and transferred the diameter to the handle stock using pencil graphite.


I carefully (sort of) sawed around the shoulder and then pared the tenon with a chisel. I did the final rounding with the rasp itself - it would have been much easier to use (safer too) if it had only had a handle - hmm...


I don't really have a "design" for my handles. I just make them feel comfortable in my hand. I tend to end up with some variation on a general theme of tapered octagonal prisms.

Here's a shot of the finished handle, with ferrule and final shaping complete. The chamfering of the end was done with a chisel, while the tiny chamfers on the shoulder (not visible in this shot) I did with a knife.


After making the first handle (for the #49 rasp) with the copper left bright, I decided to experiment with giving the next ferrule some patina. My attempt at using heated mineral oil created a mottled look that I actually like very much. It's different than the uniform black I created on the bolts for the turning saw project. I'm not sure if it's a result of using mineral oil instead of linseed oil, or if it has something to do with the copper.

Here are two final group shots:





Oh, and how do they work? Fantastic! Especially the rasp - what a revelation! Thank you for the wonderful gifts Sweetie!