Stanley - the Energizer Bunny of Old Just Kept Going...

If you were asked to buy stock in a company that developed a product at the end of one century, did the tooling for it, and then ran with that exact set-up, enjoying fair sales with it, until way past the middle of the next century, would you buy it? I probably would seriously consider it.

This is pretty much what Stanley Rule and Level Co. did for about that length of time. They came up with something, they refined it and then they produced it – for damn near forever.

Here are three images of the Stanley No. 97 Marking Gauge lifted from three of the four Stanley No. 34 catalogs that I have found in the public domain so far. One is from the 1914 edition, another from1934 and the third from 1958. Which one is which? They are displayed in order; 1914, 1934, and then the 1958 at the bottom of the stack.





By the way, I just bought one of these on eBay and it doesn’t match any of these illustrations. All three display the Stanley logos; the two earlier ones on the striking face and the ’58 model on its back. Mine, as you will see in the image below, displays a more Gothic scripted logo on the opposite face. What is weird about mine is that it has a Sweetheart logo on the machined screw. Either you can’t believe the illustrations in these catalogs, or mine is either older or newer, and has had the screw replaced.

Prices? The gauge sold for 47¢ in 1914, twenty years later, in 1934, it had jumped to 60¢, and by 1958, it was selling at the whopping huge price of $2.85. If you want to work that out in terms of inflation, from 1914 to 1934, the price increased 26%, or 1.3% per year. From 1934 to 1958, however, the price increased 475%, or almost 20% per year. Progress?

The next two images are from the same catalogs; 1914 and 1934. These are displaying Stanley’s top of the line Slide Mortise Gauges; the No. 77. Advertised as manufactured in Solid Rosewood and Brass, this baby sold for 60¢ in 1914. By 1934, the price had risen to $1.60, and by 1958, it had been dropped from the catalog.


A forth catalog that I have found is from 1898, and shows neither the No. 97 or the No. 77. It is not a complete catalog, though. I have, however, seen both these gauges offered by Stanley in other pre-turn-of-the-century publications. I just cannot show you them here as they are not in the public domain.

Here are three tools that I picked up over the last month; the Stanley No. 97 Marking Gauge, the No. 77 Slide Mortise Gauge and what I consider to be a very pretty awl.

The two gauges were picked up from eBay, but the awl came from toolexchange.com.au. I picked up the gauges because they looked to be in excellent shape, which they are. I was considering a Veritas Wheel Marking Gauge by Lee Valley, but when I saw this 97, I grabbed it instead.


The awl I purchased because it has the most beautiful yellow tone to the wood handle that I have ever seen. I have no idea what kind of wood it is made from, but it reminds me of the term, butternut. I also bought it because I needed it, ya, that’s it, I really needed one.

I got an email from another poster the other day asking me if I “enhanced” my images. I do. As you can see in the image below, I don’t alter the actual product, just the lighting, densities and backgrounds; the window dressing, so-to-speak. Sometimes I get a little carried away, but hey, you can't blame a guy for having a bit of fun.


Peace,

Mitchell

An Interesting Article On The Stanley Works...

Born in the fading days of the 40's, I'm a member of the Baby Boomer generation. As a "Boomer", I spent my youth fully immersed in the hippy movement, partaking in all the trappings and trimmings of that culture. Many who know me honestly believe that I am still stuck in 1967, a comment I find hard to argue with.

Now, as a college instructor, I deal with the current younger generation more than most. As I spend a great amount of time communicating with them, it is not surprising that I learn a great deal about their thoughts outside the ream of their artistic endeavors. It might come as a surprise to many of my fellow Baby Boomers, but these kids truly hate our generation, believing we represent greed and selfishness, an opinion I often agree with.

I often wonder what happened to the turn-on/tune-out crowd that I sat around the coffee houses with and listened to them pontificate about peace, love, equality and honesty, all while disclaiming any connection to “the man”, with his greedy, selfish ways. When did these kids turn from looking for a way to finance a dime bag of dope to financing a new BMW or Lexus?

As we Boomers now head off to pasture, we leave a world that, frankly, I wouldn't want to face. The world economy is in the toilet, governments are handing out billions in corporate welfare, money that will take generations to recover, and seemingly indestructible institutions are falling like flies around us. Let’s face it, who of you ever thought you would read the words, "General Motors" and "bankrupt" in the same sentence? What the hell happened?

Faced with numerous questions and no answers, a month or so ago I started to set aside an hour a morning to do some investigating. What I found was that no-one had definitive answers. To me, it seems that for every laid-off worker there is an armchair annalist spouting off a different reason for it. From what I gather, though, it seems that the mess we are in today really started decades ago.

Man, this is a long-winded introduction to an article, isn't it? Ok, to get to it.

This morning I stumbled upon this article, being drawn to it because of its title; The Stanley Works (now do you see the connection between this post and woodworking?). It is an excerpt from a book entitled, "The Disposable American: Layoffs and Their Consequences” by Louis Uchitelle. While the book is all encompassing in its subject matter, this excerpt deals with it as it relates to the Stanley Works and uses the explanations of that company’s CEOs to do it. It does an amazing job of giving the reader some insight into what lead up to our position in the Global Market today, greed and stupidity in the leaders of our financial institutions aside.

An excellent article on a subject that impacts of each and every one of us, not to mention insights into why Veritas and Lie-Nielsen are able to exist today.

Check it out at http://www.enotalone.com/article/5403.html

Peace,

Mitchell

Here's a Stubby I Bet You Didn't Know About...

We all know about the "Stubby" screwdriver, referred to as a "Chubby" in the UK, which was first introducted at Stanley in 1937.

Some of you may already know that the premier tool manufacturer, Snap-On, made the practice of cutting down perfectly good standard-length wrenches to get into tight areas obsolete with the introduction of the "Stubby" wrench around that same time. I have no idea what they call these in the UK.

What seems to be unknown to all of us, however, is that Stanley seems to have also produced a "Stubby" chisel, a #40 or #50, no less. I back up this incredible announcement with proof in the way of a just completed offering on eBay. For some reason, I guess disbelief that such a tool as the Stubby Chisel actually existed in Stanley's line-up, it went unsold, even though the starting bid was a mere $9.95.


Who knew?

Peace,

Mitchell

Tripping Down Memory Lane While Using An Old Tool...

I started a chisel rack yesterday for my almost complete set of Stanley #40’s, or #50’s, whichever version they happen to be. The problem collecting these things is that you just don’t know which model you have; the only difference between them being length. The #40’s are longer than the #50’s, opposite to what I expected, and as a result of this only difference, if you sharpen a #40 a few times too many, all of a sudden you own a #50.


Having to put beads on both edges of the stock for this addition to my tool chest, the first bead I ran was with my old wood bead molding plane. With the first bead done, I then remembered one of my latest acquisitions; the Stanley #66 Beading Tool. I dug it out and started to think things through regarding how to use it as I had never held one in my hands before receiving this one.

The first thing that struck me about this tool was its simplicity. Originally I thought I should go online to see if I could find some instructions for it but that thought quickly dispelled as I started to assemble it. You definitely do not have to be a mechanical engineer to figure out how this thing goes together.

As I have never been shy about discussing my old man in these posts, I will tell you that I thought a lot about him as I put that old tool together. My main thought was to try and figure out why he didn’t own one. I know it would be a tool he would be impressed with. In truth, for a carpenter, and a damned good one at that, he didn’t own a whole lot of tools.

His toolbox held:

• Stanley #9 ½ Plane


• Stanley #4 Plane


• Stanley #7 Plane


• Stanley #78 Plane


• Stanley #28 & #29 Cornering Tools


• Disston 28” Straight-Back Rip


• Disston 26” Skewback Cross


• Disston 20” Skewback Cross Panel


• Disston 14” Back


• Stanley #150 Open Front Miter. Box


• Stanley #720 Chisels (a set of five)


• Stanley #40 Screwdrivers (a set of five)


• Millers Falls #610A Spiral Screwdriver


• Stanley Bevels (3 different sizes)


• Stanley #94 Butt Gauge


• Stanley #77 Mortising Gauge


• Stanley #373-3 ½” Butt Marker


• Stanley #6 Awl (two)


• Stanley #82 Scraper


• Stanley Ratchet Bit Brace (I have no idea what model but he had two of them)


• Irwin Bits (a complete set in a canvas roll)


• Stanley #232 Aluminum Level


• Stanley #87 Line Level


• Hammers (2; one framing and one for trim)


• Sand’s Craft Rafter Square 24”


• Stanley #21 Combination Try and Miter Square


• Stanley #20 Try Squares (6” and 10”)


• Stanley #94 Boxwood Folding Rule (two)


• Nail Sets (many)


• Wrecking Bar


• Nail Pull


• Sharpening Stones (two)

Strange that I can list these, isn’t it? To tell the truth, it really isn’t. Not only was it my job to clean out that toolbox every Saturday afternoon for a number of years when I was a kid, but the fact is, I now own most of them. While you readers might think something poetic, like my dear father left me all his tools when he left this world, the reality is, he sold them to me. When I built my first house my father was retired. I approached him about borrowing many of his tools and his answer was that he didn’t need most of them any longer and if I paid him a thousand bucks, I could take what he didn’t need then and collect the rest after he was gone. While this may sound a little cold to you out there, in truth, I think it was payback time for him, and I will explain this if you read further.

With this simple set of tools, my old man started out in the building trade after be discharged from the army after the war. He got into building because the soldiers coming home needed homes to live in and given he had a grade 5 education, I think it was the only thing he could do. He bought a set of Audels Carpenters and Builders Guides, among others, taught himself the math required to figure out complex rafter systems and the like, and taught himself the art of drafting, something he became a true master at. By the mid 50’s, he had started his own contacting firm and was doing subcontracting with 10 men working for him. He also built a few houses on spec and renovated a number of others. Even though he was the boss, he built most of the kitchens in all these builds himself because that was what he excelled in – building cabinets, something that is no longer a craft because of the manufactured systems that are now in place.

By the late 50’s he was busted and broke. A developer he had subcontracted with to trim-out an entire subdivision filed for bankruptcy two weeks before the cheque was due. He went back working for someone else. He worked all the overtime he could to earn enough money to pay his men what he owed them instead of just passing on the loss by filing himself. I don’t think he ever recovered from that experience, but he kept at it until his failing health forced him inside. I can remember when I was a kid riding my bike to one of his sites he was working on to bring him his lunch and some cold pop.

Thinking about all of this yesterday and wondering about his limited tool selection, I realized that there probably wasn’t much money left over each month for buying extra tools once the bills for keeping a family was paid. There always was enough to meet his healthy beer budget, there is no doubt about that, but I think there just wasn't enough left to buy himself something like this beader. I guess it comes down to priorities and a limited budget.

Over the past five years I have taken his collection of tools and added to them considerably, which is what this tool cabinet build is all about; holding and displaying these wonderful examples of a bygone craft. Out of all I have so far, the only ones that show any signs of real abuse are the ones I listed above. Why? Because when I was a kid I liked to build things, just like my old man. I also wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer, and as a result, I left his #150 Miter Box out in the rain, lost the depth gauge, fence, complete with both rods, and the spur from his #78, lost many of his Irwin Bits, left his #82 Scraper under a tree for over a month, used one of his chisels to open a can of paint and broke the end off, lost a couple of his screwdrivers completely, lost the wing nut off of his #26 6” bevel, broke the end off of both his Awls - often, and lost the majority of his nail sets. These are the things I can remember doing to his tools, so image what I didn’t realize I had done. Genius, eh?

As I put this list together in my head yesterday, I wondered how I would have reacted if my son had done such things to the tools of my trade; my camera equipment. I would have killed him. As I thought this, I realized that, despite destroying a good majority of the tools my old man used to earn the money to feed me, he never cut me off them. There is no way in hell he didn’t know that I would damage more of his tools every time I used them, but he never said no. Without question, he let me use every one of them whenever the need occurred and often suggested which tools to use for a particular task. For the life of me, I can't figure out if that was a truly impressive act of a good father, or the dumbest thing I ever heard of. I’m also not saying the old man didn’t give me a serious cuff every time I damaged one of his tools, along with a long, detailed oratory regarding his views of how tools are to be respected and cared for. I’m just saying he never cut me off them.

It took a number of years but his verbal directions delivered with physical emphasis regarding tool care has finally worked its way home. The nickel has dropped, so-to-speak. Over the past couple of years I have cleaned, repaired and replaced all the damage I did to those tools in my youth. The last line in that chapter was written last week when I finally located the wing nut for his #26 bevel, located on http://www.toolexchange.com.au/, a company in Australia. Mind you, with what it cost me for that one wing nut and bolt I could have bought a complete new example of this tool, but what the hell.

So there you go. Some personal thoughts surprisingly generated by using an old hand tool. You gotta’ love these things.

Peace,

Mitchell

A Matched Pair - Sort of...

I finished the second drill index the other day. I'm happier with this one than I am with the first one, but I'm still not thrilled with my abilities for "staying within the lines". Sadly, the beading is no more accurate on this second attempt than it is on the first, but the finish is much better, so things are improving for me. This second attempt at French Polishing was done using the "true" process, unlike the first one which was done in what I call a "faux French Polish". You can quickly see the difference in the colour between these two types of finish, the latest one being darker and browner than the first

Stephen over on The Full Chisel Blog has a couple of great articles about French Polish and what he says is completely on the money, "It can be a finicky finish to master but it is actually an easy finish to apply once you understand the principles". As he further states, this finish is difficult to apply on pieces that are intricate or on molding, and I can assure you, that is an understatement. To me, these pieces are not intricate at all, with only two little beads running around each edge. Those two little beads, however, are enough to cause you to pull your hair out when you have a polishing pad in your hand. What happens is that you can't get the pad tight into the corner and because you can't get the pad into that corner, you can't rub it out, and because you can't rub it out, you can't get an even coloured finish, a statement borne out in the image. 

While Stephen explains the process of French Polishing well, gives the reader some good advice and warns them about some of the pitfalls, he does miss one very important point. The term "French Polish" is an acronym for the word, "Patience". The process is soooooo monotonous until that shine starts to creep in, I think that only those on a daily dose of about 50mg of valium can handle it. Lacking this calmer in my daily chemical mixture, I found that "staying with it" is the hardest part of the whole exercise. Doing this one index took eight days, each day involving activating the pad, charging it and spending about 10 minutes rubbing that pad in circles on the wood. Calling for forty minutes of prep and post time to spend 8 to 10 minutes applying the finish, is it surprising that this finish fell out of favour when labour costs rose above a buck an hour?

While I can tell you about the hassles, problems, mess, aggravation, extended time-frame, repetitions and frustrations involved in applying this finish, I can't begin to explain the silky soft smoothness of its incredibly deep, lustrous surface once its on. 

Peace,

Mitchell

Now I Have Something To Take A Bead On...

I had a pleasant surprise this morning. The postman arrived with a little package for me; the Stanley #66 I purchased last week on eBay.

Looking at this thing, I find it a bit unbelievable that it could have been made at the beginning of this configurations' manufacturing run, which would be 1909. If it was, the guy who bought it brought it home and put it in his wife's underwear drawer where it sat until momandpopcybershop scooped it to sell on eBay. It is just way too clean, but it is exactly as momandpop described it; very clean and very complete. Heck, even the washer under the thumbscrew that holds the fences on is there.

I'm really pleased to have it. I'm starting a new chisel rack next week and have included some reeding in the design. In a couple of weeks we will see what this thing is made of.

Peace,

Mitchell

No Tool Like An Old Tool - Especially At Today's Prices...

I’m not sure, but I think I just witnessed a record price for a Stanley chisel on eBay.

Weast8860, whom I have come across a few times in my quest for the ultimate vintage tool at the ultimate low price, had a Stanley Everlasting #40 Bevel Edged ½ inch chisel that appears to be New/Old Stock listed. While the images show some pitting, the fact that he states it is just over the length Stanley catalogues lists these things’ at, 9 inches, puts it leaps and bounds above any of the chisels from this series that I have purchased in the past. As the "Made in USA" and the "Pat.1493176" markings are oriented away from the handle, I believe this one is from the final days Stanley offered this style of chisel, which I read somewhere, was around 1941.

The winning bid was $180.00, and for we wee Canadians, that works out to around two hundred and ten bucks!

I have to admit to having my fingers twitch as I watched the final minutes of the auction, but the reality is, I would end up not using this tool if I bought it, and that goes against my principles. To use it would be to sharpen it and to sharpen it would be to shorten it and to shorten it would be to loose my shirt on it. So no pristine, perfect chisel for me. I’ll stick to the more used variety.

They sure are a beautiful tool to work with and look at, though.

Peace,

Mitchell

Is "everythingstanleyexceptplanes.com" Possible?...

I have not kept it a secret that I am in love with tools. I also have let it be known that I have a soft spot for old Stanley tools, although that is not etched in stone. It all boils down to a tool meeting my three point criteria; if it is well made, if its design interests me, and if I know I will use it. If a particular tool meets those three stipulations, I won’t hesitate to pass the bucks across the table to own it.

I just bought a Stanley #66 Beader with 8 blades and 2 fences; in other words, the complete set. I bought it from momandpopcybershop on eBay and paid $4.00 more for it than I would have paid for a brand-new one from Lie-Nielsen and $110.00 more than the newly designed one offered by Lee Valley. I paid “through the nose” for this tool and I’m thrilled to death that I have it.

I have been looking at beaders for some time now, even going as far as placing the new Veritas one on my Lee Valley Wish List. So why, all of a sudden, would I end up buying this particular tool?

I bought it for two reasons. The first is that it met the three point criteria that I have set for myself when it comes to buying a tool. The second reason I bought it was that I could quickly and easily confirm what the seller was saying about the tool. On their listing, Mom and Pop had a heading in large and bold text that stated the tool was “Guaranteed 100% Complete”. Further on in their description they stated that you could “probably date this example to around 1909”.

One click on a bookmark and I was in The Superior Works site, another click and I was on the page where the #66 was listed and a bit of a scroll had me reading when Stanley started producing this tool, and what changes they made to it over its production and the dates when they made those changes. The results of a short read told me that, yes, this tool was produced with 8 blades and 2 fences, so their claim to being complete was correct. I learned that Stanley started producing this tool with a nickel finish in 1900, and they added the eighth blade – the blank one, in 1909, so Mom and Pop’s statement that it was a 1909 model could be true. It could also have been made around 1941 as well, as this particular tool in this particular configuration was produced between 1909 and 1941 with no serial number or other marking to narrow the date of production down further. Armed with that easily obtainable information, I now knew what I was buying and without hesitation I started bidding, determined to get it.

So why is it that I can’t do this when I see a Stanley chisel I want? Or a Stanley Bevel? Why is it that I can go on a number of different sites and find out everything there is to know about Stanley planes, but finding out about any other type of tool made by this company is an exercise in futility?

As a result of all of this, I started to put together a plan to set up a new web site named, “everythingstanleyexceptplanes.com”. The domain name is available. So why not go for it? I’ll tell you why - Content – or specifically, the lack thereof. To put all of this information together so the site would be on the same level as Patrick's Blood and Gore would take a lifetime, not to mention the family jewels to finance the purchase of the research material needed. So what to do?

What about a collaborative site? Would any of you that have information about a Stanley non-plane tool be interested in sharing it? Is there enough of you out there that would be interested in something like this?

Let me know.

Peace,

Mitchell

Who Knew My Brother-In-Law Had It In Him...

Here is a shot of my brother-in-law’s new workbench that he just put together. My reason for posting it here is to not necessarily score any points with him, although that probably wouldn’t hurt, but to give a real example of our perceptions of others when it comes to the topic of woodworking. In this particular case, those perceptions came back to bite me on the butt this time.

To give you a little history, my brother-in-law has been married to my sister for a number of years now but, as in most family dynamics, estrangement between older siblings seems to be more the norm rather than the exception, so as a result, I never got to know this guy. Maybe it is because our parents have passed or just simply that we are older, but somehow my sister and I have become more accepting of each other and are slowly building a relationship. As a result of this, I am now starting to get to know my brother-in-law, who, for a banker, isn’t a bad guy actually.

I admit that my interest in woodworking has become a bit of an obsession, rather than just a hobby. It has seriously gotten worse since I started up with hand tools. While I still have difficulty putting two pieces of wood together with what I believe to be an acceptable result, I find my biggest joy in the hobby is in the challenge. It’s the old, “Its not the destination, it’s the getting there”, kind of thing. Lets face it; it is relatively easy to build anything if the quality of workmanship and simple rules of aesthetics aren’t included. Even when those two elusive qualities are included, we all end up with what we believe to be glaring mistakes in our creations. Some of us also realize that the mistakes in our work glare a little more than the mistakes others point out to us in theirs. It does not stop me from coming up with more complex designs for the next project, however, as that, for me, is the basic principle for being involved in all of this in the first place.

Because it is an obsession for me, over time I have learned one major lesson in communicating my love for this hobby with others – don’t!

Come on, we all have, in one-way or another, learned this lesson. We mention to someone our love of tools and woodworking and more times than often we hear that the person we are speaking to about it also has an “interest” in it. Believing we have something in common they try to build on it, finally ending up inviting you to view your newfound friend’s latest creation. More often than not what you end up viewing is a leaky roofed doghouse or a twisted paper towel holder; both nailed together with spikes with a whole bunch of plastic wood sloppily stuffed into the mistakenly drilled holes and nail splits. Looking at this kind of stuff is painful enough, but then you have to add in the pain of the so-called craftsman beaming with pride as he tries to force positive feedback from you where none really exists.

I came to the conclusion a few years ago that it is better to suffer my obsession in private, rather than be forced to view any more of those disasters. Thinking about this attitude now, I realize that it is rather arrogant, really. What’s the expression? You have to kiss a lot of toads before you meet your princess? Or in this case, prince?

I had the “Ya, I heard that before” thought when I was told my brother-in-law was into woodworking. Immediately the leaky doghouse and twisted paper towel holder came to mind. My first visit to their new home resulted in a tour of the soon-to-be workshop. I viewed a few nice tools, sadly, most of them power, but those visions of disasters were still present when I left, as I didn’t get to see any of his work. Saying I’m a great composer doesn’t really mean I can write a song. 

One day, not too long ago I was surprised to discover an email in my inbox from him and when I opened it, I was actually shocked to see this image. As with any “this is what I made” presentation, I immediately took a close scan of the picture. I was immediately impressed with what I saw. Stretchers let in to the legs, bolts that appear to have their placements measured for consistency, a frame around the top with properly mitered and well-executed corners, not to mention everything properly rounded over and properly finished. It was obvious he had some talent, but even more obvious he took some pride and joy in taking the difficult way, rather than the easy way. Hey, a man after my own heart and one that is even part of my own family. Who knew?

Of course I replied with the positives about his work, but I also had to add a hesitant apology to it as well, an apology for not giving him the benefit of the doubt when I heard the words, “He’s into woodworking too, you know”.

I will, however, definitely hold it against him that he has openly stated that he is putting off finishing his workshop until the fall as otherwise it would infringe on his time playing golf. While I understand the concept of “each to their own obsessions” – GOLF?

Peace,

Mitchell  

One Down - One To Go...

I ended up laying a total of six coats of amber shellac on this block of wood sanding in between the first couple with 220 grit and between the remaining with 320. I left it a couple of days to set and then I had a good look at it. I wasn't so happy. It had great colour, the finish was even, but it lacked depth and had way too many brush marks. I decided to just sand the hell out of it, starting with 220, moving to 320 and finishing with fine steel wool. I figured if I sanded through the finish it didn't matter as I was going to have to lay on more coats anyway. While I didn't end up sanding through the finish, I did cause some serious differences in the colour.

While I was working away on this I got an email from a friend who had viewed the last post and he wanted information about applying shellac. I told him it was easy, forgiving and fast drying, all the things guys like us want in a finishing product, among other things. He mentioned how he had bought a French Polish kit from Lee Valley, but after reading the instructions, he though it was probably too difficult. Now there's a word that makes me sit up and take notice, "difficult".

Back on line I read about four or five articles about this process and he was right, it did sound difficult, not to mention time consuming. From what I gathered, building up the finish was the worst part of the process, but hey, I already had one didn't I? Out came the shellac and rags. I didn't have the suggested type of alcohol, but they said it was what Rubbing Alcohol that is used to clean monitors is made from, and I sure had some of that. I mixed up a batch; two parts shellac to one part rubbing alcohol, made myself a paddle from a rag and went to work. Wow. Incredible finish. The rag allows you to get it on evenly and without brush marks. The finish was beyond belief, so I was sold. I rubbed on three or four coats, let it dry, and I was ready for the final run.

Have you ever noticed that the smaller the job, the more Murphy's law kicks in. I'm sure it is because we get cocky - hey, its a small job, right? No big deal.

The next day I rubbed the entire block down with extra fine steel wool and Minwax Finishing Wax. I laid that stuff on like it was a buck a gallon, rubbing, laying on more wax and rubbing some more. I let it sit up for about a half hour  and then, with a couple of the softest rags I could find, I started polishing. As I polished off the first bit of wax this incredibly bright, deep, highly glossed surface came through. It absolutely blew me away.

Once the wax was buffed I had an objective look. I shouldn't have done that, but looking at things objectively forces you to face your mistakes. I should have corrected that difference in colour before I continued on with my faux French Polish job. The colour difference was still there, but doubled. The finish was smooth, man, was it smooth. The surface was shiny, but the colour was blotchy and inconsistent. And therein lies the lesson - believe what the book tells you.

The shot at the top shows the rubbed out finish. You can see the differences in colour, especially on the right side and along the front bead. The three vertical faces, however, were even and smooth so I went with it. Its a drill index after all, and the top is just going to get drilled with a whole bunch of holes.

Once, when my son was visiting and we were checking out the tool cabinet, he said that when I was done, anyone will be able to follow the process of the build just by viewing the quality of the different pieces. The first piece I put the beading plane to was a disaster, but they eventually got better the more I did. My first set of hand-cut dovetails looks more like sloppy finger joints, but over time, they improved too. So now, when someone looks at this thing in the future, they will be able to say, "...and here is where he started to learn French Polishing".

I went with the finish and covered the entire thing with masking tape. There is three reasons for this. First, I would like to be able to complete the piece and put it into the cabinet finished before I smack it with something and bugger the finish. I figured if covering it with masking tape works on American Chopper when they are assembling a bike, it will work here too. The second reason for taping is to help minimize tear-out when I start to drill all those holes. Finally, the third reason is that I have to tape the template to the top for drilling and I want to completely cover the top with good, old carpet tape so the template will be held down flat and smooth. I love carpet tape and use it for almost everything, but it has one drawback - it really reaps havoc with the finish. Stick something down to a finished surface with carpet tape and you can bet when you lift it off, the surface will come with it. By covering the surface with the easy release, 5 day, green 3M tape, I won't have that problem.

This is the template I made up about seven months ago. I put it together in Illustrator, an Adobe vector program that I find just perfect for this type of thing. I just made a document slightly larger than the actual size of the block, then started making circles with cross-hairs in the middle, one for every bit that was to go in the index. It took a day of playing with positioning and alignment, but it worked out very well. Printed off on 11 x 17 stock, I just cut it down to fit the top of the block and taped it down. I was ready to drill.

 

So here is the finished product. The block has four feet made with a 3/4 inch tenon cutter. I drilled into the bottom of the block with a 3/4 inch Fostner bit, glued the dowels into them then set it on a piece of 80 grit sandpaper that was stuck to the glass plate I use for lapping my blades. After a few minutes of that, the block didn't rock and was stable, but more importantly, it had airspace beneath it for circulation.

Drilling the holes took me two afternoons, about eight hours in total. The eleven largest brad bits have a shoulder that I wanted the hole to follow so that was twenty-two goes just for them. The twists were straight shafts, so they were not quite as much work.

Originally I thought I would drill the hole with the same sized bit that the hole was to hold, then pour some water down it, let it sit to swell the wood, vacuum it out and then re-drill the hole so when it dried, it would be slightly larger. Ya, I know, sounds like a lot of work doesn't it? Surprisingly though, all of these holes were drilled with the same sized bit as the bit the hole holds, and drilled only once I might add. While it was a hassle to load a bit, drill one hole, then start the process over again, it really wasn't that bad. The only bits that didn't like their same sized hole were the ones smaller than 5/16th. All of these smaller holes had to be reamed twice with a little "giggle" to the block during the second reaming. Once drilled I coated the inside with wax to give some sealing to the inside walls of the hole. There is a lot of holes in it and they are pretty much aligned with each other and all are 1 3/4 inches deep leaving only a 1/4 inch at the bottom to hold together. I still have to make an index card for it, showing a numbered layout of the bits with a list of sizes below it.

This piece sits on a shelf on one of the doors of the cabinet. I have to do something to keep it in place when I open and close the door and that is where the round feet come in. I plan to make a female piece to match the front feet and fix those to the shelf. This is the reason for the flush ring handle - to lift the front of the block up out of those holders and bring it forward so I can grab it and lift it out.

I have no idea how long this thing will last as I could wake up tomorrow to find it split down the middle. Overall, I am very happy with the results. I finally no longer have to dig for a needed bit in those frustrating metal boxes. As with everything in this cabinet, the next one will be better.

One down - one to go...

Peace,

Mitchell

Here's What Has Kept Me Busy These Past Few Months...

When I was a kid, my attitude was rotten, my work ethics were rotten and I had the rotten school marks to prove it. Somewhere along the way things changed for me. From that rotten little kid whose idea of reading was to look at the pictures in hot rod magazines, I now spend 75% of my waking hours studying everything I can on every subject imaginable; from architecture to zoology, and given that my so-called part-time job is that of a college instructor, I spend the rest of my time teaching.

So what does this confession have to do with woodworking? Everything.

This post is about the rebuilding of our kitchen. When I first started to consider this project I made the commitment that I would do it with hand tools. I felt that fabricating on this scale would advance my hand tool skills a thousand fold and take years off of my learning curve. Staying consistent with the rest of my life, I’d like to share what I learned with those of you that are considering doing a similar project…

Buy a damned table saw!

There was nothing major here. It was more to give the kitchen a face-lift, rather than reinvent the wheel. We kept the costs down mainly because we do not have any preconceived notions as to how long we are going to live here. I like the place well enough, I just hate the location; half way between living central and living in the country. Too far away from downtown for quick and easy commutes, but too much urbanization be worth the aggravation of commuting.

The place is a condominium built in the late 70’s when land and materials were cheap and labour was far less than today's standards. Because of that, by large urban-center standards, it is a huge three bedroom, two bathroom box. As is usual with these types of places, the kitchen is far too small, the fixtures far to cheap and the design far too ugly. Half the ceiling in the kitchen was covered with plastic panels in a cheap representation of those “Florida ceilings” that were so popular back in the late 70’s. The original floor had been replaced with the ugliest brown speckled terra cotta tiles ever made.

When my shor…er...petite wife started to constantly complain that the upper cabinets were too high, I started to look at what we could do.

I set out to:

• Lower the uppers a few inches, the amount lowered determined by the coffee maker
• Replace the junk original doors with 3/4” particleboard
• Reduce the space the original installment left for the fridge and stove
• Add a 16” upper and lower to the right end of the wall
• Replace the box above the fridge with a lower one, mounting it flush with the face of the fridge
• Add a divider between the fridge and cabinets to enclose it
• Reconfigure the original bulkhead to follow the new cabinet configuration
• To cover the fact that I was building this with the cheapest of materials, finish the new and existing with a better than average finish
• Rewire and add new lighting
• Replace existing floor

Here is what I started with. Actually, I had already lowered this side, added the lights, crown molding and took a door off when my son reminded me that I hadn’t taken a before picture…

Here is what it looks like now…

Because I was using 3/4" particleboard for the slab doors (pre-primed birch ply for the boxes), I wanted to give it a better than usual finish, one that would replicate the old milk paint used until it became known lead would kill you. To get this I gave everything one coat of regular primer, sanded, then two coats of high-build primer. This is great stuff as it expands as it dries and makes it easy to get a smooth, flat surface. I then sanded that to death, then laid on three coats of the green oil paint, giving it sands in between each coat with 220 grit. After that I laid on three more coats of satin finish varathane, again sanding between each coat, this time with 320 grit. I still have one more coat of varathane to put on, but I going to give everything a month or so to cure completely before going at it again. After that last coat is hardened, I'll rub everything down with steel wool and give it all a coat of wax. I did this to one end piece and the finish is as smooth as glass, but has a very unique sheen to it, and does replicate that old milk paint of yore.

In this shot, the upper cabinet over the fridge has been replaced with one that is consistent in height with the lowered originals and brought forward. A divider was installed to enclose the fridge and a new upper and lower cabinet was added to the end...

This is the new upper and lower cabinets, made to replicate the design of the original boxes. By reducing the space for the stove and fridge I was able to squeeze more space out of the wall to allow for these new 16" units. I built the base with two drawers only for pots and pans mounted on full extension, self-closing sliders. They work great and are very cool. I'm still opening and closing the drawers just to watch them close that last two inches on their own. Given the location of this base, I thought it would be ideal to have a butcher block top on it so I made one out of maple and beech...

The biggest hassle was deciding what to do with the space left between the tops of the upper cabinets and the bulkheads. It was too narrow to be of any use and too much of a hassle to enclose, besides, if the next owner's wife is, dare I say, of a normal height, they will probably want to put them higher again. All I did was added a filler piece to the top edge of each box and applied crown molding along them. The filler gave me a larger gluing surface and brought the molding out so it was flush with the faces of the doors. The molding is actually chair rail as I thought the crown molding would be too much for this little kitchen and would attract too much attention to the space. Behind the molding I installed rope lights all the way along to use as night lights. Here is what I am greeted with when I fridge-dive at midnight...

The biggest hassle was the ceiling. First, all the plastic panels, track and florescent lights had to be removed, along with their accompanying junction boxes and conduit pipe. The ceiling was popcorned over the concrete, so that had to be scrapped off and the whole thing skimmed with plaster to fill the holes and level it out. I then had to add to the bulkhead on the right, so the new cabinets looked like they belonged, and bring the bulkhead out over the fridge, so that reconfigure would look acceptable. For some reason there isn't an exhaust fan in this kitchen, even though there is a through-wall vent for the dryer in a laundry closet at the far end of the kitchen. Because of this, I plan to install a small ceiling fan in the center of the recessed ceiling but I'll have to install some fake, white ceiling beams to run the wiring in first. My good friend Eric handled the all the rewiring for me and while he was at it, installed the wiring for the fan, ending it at one of the new pot lights to wait for this further addition. So the ceiling now looks like this...

Once everything was in, installed and painted, I replaced the floor. Removing the old terra cotta tile wasn't a problem as whoever installed it removed the old linoleum tile, but didn't scrap and clean the old glue off. As a result, the thinset used to hold the terra cotta didn't stick at all and when I went to lift one, a whole section of ten to twenty tiles were lifted together, the grout between them being stronger than the adhesive that was supposed to  hold them to the floor. Believe me, the work involved removing the tiles was a whole lot less then hauling the lot of them down 26 floors to the garbage bin.

Because I am surrounded by concrete, the floor being the same as the ceiling, I had no choice but to go with "engineered flooring". Isn't that just a fancy hustle for fake wood? I wasn't too happy with the look of it in the store as to me, it looked like exactly what it was - fake flooring. Once I got it down, though, I warmed to it, and having lived with true hardwood floors in the past, I was surprised to discover how easy the fake job is to keep clean. The entire floor was fitted using a hand saw and keyhole saw with nothing plugged in for the entire day. To impart with a little bit more wisdom; that crap can take the edge off a saw in two minutes flat. I have had to add $120.00 to the price of the new floor as that is what it has cost me to send my vintage 20" Disston panel saw back to Philadelphia so woodnut4 can do his magic and re-sharpen it. I can't find anyone here in Toronto who does hand sharpening. Anyway, here's the floor...

So there you have it. There are still the few little jobs I have to do to completely finish this room, along with making that corner computer cabinet that I have been dreaming of these past few months. I do not think that I gained any greater knowledge or experience building all of this with hand tools except for coming to the understanding that I have a lot more respect for an old hand saw than I do for a fifty buck tablesaw blade. If we do decide to stay here I'll probably rip the whole lot out and start from scratch with a more elaborate and better built set of cabinets but for now, and in case of resale, these will do just fine. If I do go at them again, however, I can assure you the only hand tool I will be using is the push stick to shove the smaller pieces through a table saw. It took five sheets of particleboard and plywood, all 3/4", to make this stuff. Cutting all of that by hand was a huge pain in the.........arm. I will admit that particleboard does cut cleanly. Getting clean smooth edges on all the doors only took a few strokes with some 120 grit sandpaper and once painted, you can't find a saw mark anywhere. The only real bonus to building it all with hand tools is that I was able to pre-cut everything in the foyer of the apartment as the dust factor wasn't anywhere near what it would be with power tools. The compensation for the extra man-power involved was that I didn't have any travel time back and forth to the shop, which meant that I could fit the job into my schedule a whole lot easier.

If I had the time and didn't have a wife complaining about the existing kitchen every five minutes, it would have been nice to build the whole thing in real wood with frame and panel doors. Even if that were the case, I wouldn't commit myself so rigidly to hand tools again, not for a job this size. There is just way too much cutting.

I'm now taking a sabbatical from larger scaled projects for the next month and returned last week to working on my tool cabinet. I'll post some of what I have completed on that soon.

Peace,

Mitchell

An Update Regarding the Right Plane...

I'm rather late posting this; about four months, actually.

On November 20th of last year I posted a request for advice in choosing the right plane to create rabbets and such for drawers and small cabinets. Kari over on The Village Carpenter suggested that I pick myself up a Veritas Small Plow Plane. Doing some further research, I thought she gave me great advice and still think that way.

Now, on November 25th, I posted an illustration and a manipulated photo to show my conflicting feelings about the newly designed Veritas plane and backsaw.

How are these two things related?

Well I don't know if you noticed it or not, but on the inside cover the Lee Valley January catalogue, the illustration of the questioning woodworker appeared as an intro to a letter about the new tool designs written by Lee Valley's President, Robin Lee. If you can put two and two together, you have probably figured out that I am now the proud owner of a spanking new Veritas Small Plaw Plane, complete with all five blades.

As an aside, the manipulated photo of the Veritas NX60 Block Plane has been published in the April issue of The Canadian Home Workshop magazine. While I won't complain about the remuneration I received for that one, I will say that it is too bad they don't make planes there.

I have to admit, it is a wonderfully relaxing way to build your tool collection.

Peace,

Mitchell