The Village Carpenter is Retiring...

It would appear that The Village Carpenter is no longer posting. Kari has decided to hang up her keyboard and go off in other pursuits. While I will miss her, I respect and understand her decision to give it up. Constantly sharing yourself on a blog isn't the easiest thing to do, and in fact, it can be a royal pain in the ass sometimes.

In truth, Kari was the driving force that got me into the blogging business. She is so damned talented, she should be ashamed of herself. I probably learned more from her postings than I ever learned from all the other blogs combined.

What I loved about Kari's posts is her lack of pretension. If you did a search through all her postings I would bet the back forty that you would never find the word "perfect" used that related to herself or her work. You and I might of thought the results of her skills were perfect, and maybe at times even Kari thought so too, but she is classy enough to never even hint she felt that way. She did what she did to the best of her abilities and then put it out there for the world to see.

All the best to you, Kari, in your future endeavours. You will be missed.

Peace,

Mitchell

This is for Anonymous...

In my post from yesterday, Anonymous asked me if I was talking about a specific tool dealer, or giving "just a representative composite of tool sellers".

The short answer…

Anonymous, I was talking about tool dealers in general with no one specific seller in mind.

The long answer…

When I started collecting tools I had a rough idea what to expect as this wasn't my first barbecue. I had collected things in the past so I had a pretty good idea how it was going to go. 

At first, you fill up your shelves with all the little odds and sods that, in the vintage tool market, cost less than $100.00. That gets your feet wet and you learn how the market works. It also allows you to sort out the vendors, figuring out who you want to deal with, and more importantly, who you don’t.

Eventually, there aren't anymore of the cheaper bits that you want, so you start to move up the food chain, and there is lots of tools in the $100 to $400 range to keep you busy. Eventually, though, your shelf gets full of all you want from that category, so you move up to the next category, the $400 to $800 group. From my experience, there is a pretty limited selection in this category, especially when your sticking close to Stanley stuff, so it doesn’t take long before you are ready to move into the big category, the over $800 category.

My collection, other than the odd bits and pieces, has now put me in this last category. Here, you have to be ready to pay the big bucks for what you want, like a No.1 or a No.9. This is when your obsession with tools starts to cost you serious money, and when I get to the point of spending serious money, I want to be comfortable with not only what I am buying, but whom I am buying it from.

I blame my old man for this attitude. When I was a kid, my parents owned a corner variety store and I worked in it. There was a royal a-hole who walked into the store every single afternoon and bought a quart of milk and two packages of cigarettes. He did this seven days a week. I didn’t like this guy at all, and one afternoon after he left, my old man came up to me and told me that he never wanted to see me treat a customer that way ever again. I’m not sure what I did, but whatever it was, the old man didn’t like it. I thought my dad was kidding and answered that he knew the customer was a dickhead. His reply to me was, “Ya, he is a dickhead, but he is a dickhead that is helping to pay for the meal you are going to eat tonight. Treat him with appreciation or find yourself another job!”

When I lay out $1100 to $1400 for a Stanley No.9, I want to feel that parting with my hard-earned cash is appreciated, otherwise I’m not even going to bother looking for one.

To give another example of what I am talking about, all the grocery store chains here have automatic checkouts and I use them religiously. The reason for this is because the machine and the live tellers talk to me exactly the same and if I’m going to get automated responses, then it bloody well better be coming from a machine and not a live person whose wages I am helping to pay.

Actually, if I had my druthers, I wouldn’t shop at a place that held this attitude at all, but here we are talking about an entirely different situation. You see, I need to eat. I can’t survive without subsidence, so I live through the negative experience of shopping in a grocery store by doing my own scanning and bagging simply because it is the lesser of the two evils. When it comes to buying that No.9, however, I do have a choice. It is the furthest thing from a necessity of life that I can imagine. In other words, I can’t live without food, but I can live long and hard without a Stanley No.9.

There is one tool dealer that I mainly dealt with and if I go back to buying tools again, he will be who I will buy from again. My reason for saying this is simply because he never screwed me once on any of the tools I bought from him over the years, and I bought a lot of tools from him. That said, he was also one of the biggest offenders for not giving any information with his listings, but the few times I have visited his site lately, I see he has improved on that considerably. The thing is, I zeroed in on him and worked at trying to build a customer/dealer relationship with him, putting my money where my mouth is by spending between $3k and $5k over the years to do it. When I hit the top spending category, though, I had a niggling feeling that I was the only one working for that relationship. I appreciated him, but I’m not so sure he appreciated me. It is a free world out there and he has a right to run his business anyway he deems fit, but I am talking discretionary spending here, with the emphasis on discretionary. I may be the dickhead my old man was talking about, but I too was that dickhead who was helping to pay for that guy’s supper that night, and I didn’t feel like he appreciated it.

If I do get back into collecting and start looking for those few seriously priced pieces I would like to have, I won’t be looking to get kissed for my purchase, but I also won’t be willing to deal with a machine and do my own scanning and bagging either.

Peace,

Mitchell

Sucking the Joy out of Everything...

I must be getting old and grumpy in my old age, but woodworking and vintage tool sites no longer hold the charm they once did. In fact, I’m getting downright turned off by them.

I have known why I’m not that thrilled with them for quite some time, but I’ve been rather embarrassed to mention it as I’m positive I’m the only one that feels this way. I’m putting it out here now to test the theory.

To those that write woodworking columns…

Guys, I’m in this hobby for the fun of it and your anal retentive attitudes towards it has quickly taken the fun out of it. If I wanted to produce perfect dovetails, or any other joint or cut for that matter, I’d be going to school to learn the craft, rather than looking for down and dirty tips so I can get to the job at hand – which is having fun.

To those that sell vintage woodworking tools…

Guys, I’m in this hobby for the kicks and your take-it-or-leave-it attitudes towards my purchases have caused me to stop buying. I’m not looking for a one-of-a-kind, $5k ultimate brace. I’m looking for usable tools and, as with any purchase of any antique, I’d like a little history about my purchase. I’m not a tool historian and I absolutely have no desire to be one.

I could go on about this, but I'll put it out there to see what you guys think, if anything other than I'm nuts.

Peace,

Mitchell 

Great Show - Lousy Economy...

The Tools of the Trade Show and Sale was held today in Pickering, a small community just north-east of Toronto. Many of the usual dealers to this twice-yearly event were on hand, with a couple that I hadn't seen before. I arrived fifteen minutes after the doors opened and was shocked at the number of people walking the booths looking for tools. It was probably one of the best turnouts that I have seen. There were so many people swarming the booths that I gave up trying to take photos of the wares.

Standing at the loo just before leaving, two dealers came in and bellied-up on either side of me and proceeded to discuss their poor sales for the morning. Just to remind them that I was standing between them in a rather vulnerable position, I commented that there didn't seem to be many in the crowd that were carrying packages. One of them replied that the reason for this, it seems, is that "they have everything already". As it turns out, the hall was chock-full of people, but the vast majority of them weren't buyers.

I can't say that I can blame the dealers for this situation. I checked out the pricing of every booth and each one had prices that reflected the economic reality of the day. In most cases, it was depressing to see what they were selling things for. An example of this was a Stanley No.10½ that I saw in Doug Orr's booth. It was right in that sweet spot for me; almost too good to be a user, but not quite good enough to be a collector. He was asking $110 for it, far below what I feel is a fair price, which would be $185. Not to prove the loo-dealer right, but I already have a really good 10½, so there was no reason for me to bite.

Another dealer had a Casey round plane, probably one of the widest I had ever seen. While records state that hollows and rounds run up to 1½-inches wide, I swear this one was at least 2-inches. It was so wide, at first I thought it was a gutter plane, but it was toteless. As I had flashlight in hand, checking out every makers stamp on every wood moulding plane in the place looking for H. E. Mitchell planes and saws, I saw that the maker's stamp on this one was, "Casey & Company", the precursor to "Casey, Kitchel & Company", "Casey, Clark & Company" and, of course, "Auburn Tool Company". In my opinion, this was a relatively rare moulding plane for which the dealer wanted a piddly 40-bucks.

So things were very close to a "perfect storm" category. The dealers had the right stuff. The prices they were asking as a starting point were fair. The buyers were out in full-force. The only thing missing to make the sale a success was bank managers - they just weren't onside this time.

The fall show will be held on November 17th this year. If you want more information about it, you can find it at http://www.ontarioantiquetools.com.

Hopefully those bank managers will come around by November and it will turn into a winner for the dealers and buyers alike. It wouldn't hurt if one or two of the dealers found a few H. E. Mitchell tools for me, either.

Peace,

Mitchell

I Knew There Was One Out There...

In a past post I asked if anyone had a vintage tool made by H. E. Mitchell. I mentioned that I would be either willing to buy it, but if it wasn't for sale, I would be grateful for a photograph of it. Someone was kind enough to follow through with that request.

I woke up a few weeks ago to find the following two images in my InBox...

The sender didn't include his or her name, nor was there any text at all accompanying the images. Just the photographs.

After a quick look I knew this saw was made by ol' Henry, so I quickly replied with a "thank you" and asked if it was for sale. I didn't receive a response, which was disappointing, but at least I now have an image of an elusive saw made by H. E. Mitchell.

This is huge for me - really huge.

In all the years I have been searching for H. E. Mitchell tools, I have never seen a saw of his, even though he stated in all his advertising that he was just a "saw maker". I saw an outdated listing for one that sold in an auction back in 2005, but it didn't include a picture of it. All this time I had no evidence that the man ever made one. Then these showed up. Wow.

The maker's stamp on the saw dates it from 1865 or 1866. I say this for two reasons. First, it has the "Eastbourne" address and ol' Henry only worked out of Eastbourne from 1865 until he went bankrupt in February of 1868. He then moved to North Road in Brighton and started again. The other reason for dating it from these two years is that the stamp only says, "Mitchell". Henry realized that his stamp could be confused with other tool makers named Mitchell so in the later half of 1866, he added the "H. E." to it.

Whoever sent me these photos, I thank you very much. You really made my day - week - month. I may not have the actual saw, but at least I have photos of one to show that the man actually made them.

Thank you.

Peace,

Mitchell

My Bucket List Sprung a Leak...

While I was sitting around recuperating and watching every B-movie Netflix has to offer my mind kept running through my “bucket list”. What ever happened to the “ToDo List”? Who the hell came up with the stupid term, “bucket list”? Anyway, the more time I spent thinking about it the more I came to realize that the damn thing had sprung a leak. When it first came to mind it held an ungodly number of items. By the time I got off my butt and got to work on striking the items off of it, there was only one left on it to tackle as I realized that all the rest were fluff and bullshit.

Now most of you that read this will think that when my mortality kicked me in the head a couple of months ago, it shook a few screws loose and suddenly I am now starting to prepare for death. That assumption would be the opposite side of the truth. I never had a near death experience, or anything that even came close to one. Hell, when they were wheeling me down to the operating room all I was thinking about was getting out of that place so I could see my dog. I should explain that my wife was with me the entire time I was in the hospital but the dog wasn’t. The bases for this newfound purpose in life is on other thoughts, as I have no plans on dying anytime soon.

Here’s the deal. What struck me one day like a ton of bricks was that fact that out of everything my parents left behind - the bit of cash, the bit of real estate, the basement full of knick-knacks - the only thing that matters to me then and now is my father’s old tools. The fact that I paid him cash for them while he was still alive doesn’t hinder their meaning to me one iota. They were a part of him and that part sits in front of me day in and day out, 24-years after his death and I expect them to mean the same to me 24-years from now.

It was his little bit of his legacy that caused me to spend the last however many years adding to them, expanding the scope and depth of his collection. I have the 5 planes he made a living with and have added many more to expand the set. I have replaced tools of his that I destroyed when I was a kid and added others that I know he would have liked to have. What all of this means is that my legacy has become one of adding to his. This is what I want to leave to my son when it is time for me to move on. I don’t want him to feel obligated to keep the legacy going; he can dump it, sell it or put it in his basement and forget it. What I hope he does get from it, though, is that we are all part of who came before us. Whether we go off in an entirely different direction or stay constant to generations past, we start, because of nature and nurture, with the person who came before us as our base. As difficult as my old man was, I am proud of the fact that I am based on who he was and it is that concept that I hope to pass on to my son when he takes possession of these old tools.

With this in mind, I had a look at how I was storing all those tools and realized that I was coming up a tad short. Ok. In truth, I realized I was coming up a few miles short. I had to face it – my tool cabinet sucked.

In my defense, dealing with life has certainly got in the way of reaching my goal of building the kick-ass combo tool-cabinet/work-bench that I wanted to build. I also realized, though, that part of this downfall could be placed squarely on the fact that I love the look of tools and putting them away in a cabinet will put them out of sight. If I built the tool-cabinet/work-bench that I had in mind I wouldn’t have them spread all over my office shelves like they are, and as a result, I wouldn’t be able to look at them every day like I do now.

The only way to deal with all this is to rethink my original concept of a tool cabinet. Instead of making usability the priority, I have to rework the design to place the display of the tools at the forefront. This isn’t going to be easy, but for my own satisfaction, it has to be done. The result of going at this tool cabinet again not only achieves what I want to pass on to my son in the end but it will also allow me a fantastic sight day in and day out until the times comes around. Ok, it is a little selfish, but what the hell.

Originally, my tool cabinet started out looking like this…

The problem I had is that I kept buying more tools. Over time, I went from less than a 100 or so to way over 300 and the cabinet wasn’t originally built to store that many. I dumped the power tools in the bottom and added a third drawer in the base, which made the doors on it a pain, so they came off. I then started to reconfigure it, doing a complete overhaul three times and not scoring a winner with any of them. I was trying to make it another Studley chest but without his abilities, so naturally I was doomed from the start.

As a result of the added tools, the cabinet ended up looking like this...

The cabinet is made from mahogany marine plywood and while it needs some changes to the outside design, I do like it. It would be a waste to throw it away so I am going to have to modify it. That means increasing the depth of the centre section from 4 ¼” to a full 9” and increasing the depth of the two wings as well. I’m not going to draw up any plans for it, as I don’t enjoy working from them. I find working from plans constricting and I get a much larger buzz working from my head, changing things as I develop new ideas.

I’m starting with the centre section and the first order of business is to strip out everything I don’t like about it and start from scratch.

Here is where it sits today…

Peace,

Mitchell

Pssst...Wanna Buy a Dirty Tool...

It is getting on to spring and with the warmer weather comes the Tools of the Trade Show.

I have always truly enjoyed this show and have dealt with some of the best in the vintage tool trade there every year. I expect this year will be no different.

The show is held at the Pickering Recreational Centre in Pickering, Ontario, a town located just north-east of Toronto. You can get to it along Highway 401, and if you go, you won't be disappointed. Get there early, though, as the boys line up before the 10:00 am opening time so they can get dibs on the best stuff.

It would be nice to see representatives from the likes of Jim Bode Tools fame and The Best Things, but I'm not going to hold my breath. Sadly, a lot of our American cousins that are in this business like to sell to us Canadians, but damned if they want to meet us face to face. Thankfully, Martin Donnelly of Martin J. Donnelly Antique Tools fame, never misses making the trek up here to meet and greet many of his existing customers, as well as using it to schmooze some new ones.

If you need more information or you are a dealer, the shows website is here.

Mark Sunday, April 7, 2013 on your calendar, save a few shekels for the date and get your tuches up here. It is well worth the trip.

Peace,

Mitchell

Another Addition to the Collection...

I haven't been shy about telling the world I collect one particular 19th century toolmaker, one named H. E. Mitchell. I have researched his ancestry as well as mine, and while I haven't been able to literally put one of his in bed with one of mine, the fact that they two families trace back to the same town in Ireland leads me to believe we are related. There is also a number of other anecdotal bits of evidence to support this as well. Related or not, though, it is way cool to view a bunch of tools made 130 to 160 years ago that all display the same last name as mine.

Just this week I was able to add another counter-stamped coin to my Mitchell collection, this one advertising Henry Edward Mitchell's Edge Tool Grinding Mills, circa 1885. This one is similar to the previous one I purchased, a 10 centimes French coin, but this one struck in 1853. You can read about the previous counter-stamped coin that I purchased and what they are all about here.

(Image copyrighted by Simmons Gallery)
I bought this counter-stamped coin from Simmons Gallery
through their online auction. This is one of the most
professional companies I have dealt with to date.

While I am itching to get back into blogging, I'm not quite ready yet to start my next project so I decided to elaborate more on ol' Henry today. 

H. E. Mitchell planes were introduced to me by Jim Bode at Jim Bode Tools when he sold me an almost complete set of beading planes made by Henry. The name intrigued me so I started doing a little research and through that, contacted Gary, a very cool and knowledgeable guy who operates Toolemera. Gary didn't have any information on ol' Henry, so he gave me some advice as to where I could find some - he sent me to ancestry.com. Now I'm not sure what I did to Gary that would result in him treating me so badly, but I must have done something. While it is true that I found out more about ol' Henry than even his mother knew, the fact is, Gary fed me to the lion, the one known as genealogy.

Now I'm not sure if you are aware of ancestry, but I am sure you have viewed their many commercials and other promotions. Don't believe them. While it is true that it is quite easy to come up with 1874 census information on Henry Mitchell, what they don't mention is that there were probably 1200 other Henry Mitchells kicking around jolly old England in 1871, half of them related to each other. You have to be a real sleuth to figure out which one is which. It is mind boggling how families recycled given names through the generations back then. What is even more shocking is that, given the sad reality of the high child mortality rates back then, families had a habit of constantly reusing a deceased child's name. I have one ancestor who gave the name William to four consecutive sons. Sad. Maybe I'm blaming Gary for something he wasn't aware of. Maybe he doesn't know that when someone falls into the genealogy abyss, they really get caught up in it, similar to the way a junkie gets caught up with heroine. Maybe Gary just didn't know...or did he?

Anyway, here is what I discovered about ol' Henry...

H. E. Mitchell, Saw maker

Born:
December 5th, 1839
Regent Street, Chelsea, Middlesex, England

Source Citation: London Metropolitan Archives, Saint Luke, Chelsea, Register of baptisms, P74/LUK, Item 173


Parents:

Stephen Mitchell, full-time soldier and part time saw-sharpener

Charlotte (madden name unknown)


Baptized:

December 29th, 1839

Event took place at Chelsea St. Luke, Middlesex, England


1841 Census:

Living at 32 Blenhym Street, Kensington, Middlesex, England

Source Citation: Class: HO107; Piece 688; Book: 6; Civil Parish: Chelsea; County: Middlesex; Enumeration District: 12; Folio: 38; Page: 23; Line: 3; GSU roll: 438804

1851 Census:

Living at 9 Holland Street, Southmark, Surrey, England

Source Citation: Class: HO107; Piece: 1557; Folio: 221; Page: 40; GSU roll: 174790

Moved to Brighton:

Stephen was discharged from the army and moved his family to Brighton, England in 1851, approximately. At that time, Henry was 12 years of age.

1861 Census:

Living at 17 Kensington Street, Brighton, England

Father listed as a “Saw Sharpener”

Henry listed as a “Saw Maker”, unmarried and 21 years of age

Two brothers listed; George F. 9 yrs, Charles 6 yrs, both listed as born in Brighton

Source Citation: Class: RG9; Piece: 597; Folio: 165; Page: 17; GSU roll: 542668

1865 First Toolmakers Business:

It is believed that Henry started his first business in 1865, a saw making and tool dealership located in Eastbourne, Sussex

Henry was 26 years of age

Note that "British Planemakers from 1700" by W. L. Goodman, lists Henry E. Mitchell as starting his plane making business in 1855. This would have made Henry 16 years of age when he hung up his shingle, a tad too young even by 19th century British standards. I could find no evidence to support this claim as this, the bankruptcy, is the first true entry regarding his own business.

1868 London Gazette - Bankruptcy:

Filed for bankruptcy on February 20^th, 1868

Operating as a Saw Maker and Tool Dealer in Eastbourne, Sussex

Residential address given is No.12 High Street, Brighton, Sussex

Granted an Order of Discharge on March 5^th, 1868

1871 Census:

Living at 15 North Road, Brighton, England

Married to Mary Morton Hyland

5 children; Henry 10 yrs, Elizabeth 4 yrs, Mary 2 yrs, Percy F. 1 yr and Frederick W. 2 months

Also has servant, Edith Tanner 17 yrs.

Source Citation: Class: RG10; Piece: 1083; Folio: 46; Page: 2; GSU roll: 827499

1874 Postal Directory Listing:

Listings for Henry Mitchell’s business first appear in 1874

He is listed as being located at 4 North Road, Brighton

1874 Trades Directory Listing:

He also listed his business in the Trades Directory in 1874

1878 Trades Directory Listing:

Henry E. Mitchell is listed in the 1878 Post Office Directory

1881 Census:

Living and operating “H. E. Mitchell, Tool Maker” at 4 North Street, Brighton

His son Henry, EST. age 20, is not listed in this census, nor is Frederick W., EST. age, 10 yrs

(It was later confirmed that Henry Jr. passed away in 1877) 

Elizabeth, Mary and Percy are present, as well as Albert - 9 yrs, Edgar - 6 yrs and Violet - 3 months

Source Citation: Class: RG11; Piece: 1089; Folio: 70; Page: 1; GSU roll: 1341256

1882 Trades Directory Listing:

Henry E. Mitchell, Saw Maker is listed in the 1882 Kelly’s Directory

1891 Census:

Moved to Keymer, Sussex, England

Living at “Hatherley Villa” on Bella Vista Road

Daughter Elizabeth has married, last name now Hilton, but no husband listed at this residence but has a son, James 8 months

Violet still living with parents

Additional children; Daisy 10 yrs, Lily 5 yrs, Henry E. 3 yrs (supporting Henry C. passed) and Rose 2 months

Source Citation: Class: RG12; Piece: 793; Folio 68; Page 11; GSU roll: 6095903

Observation:

Keymer was a village north of Brighton. It was close enough for Henry to commute back and forth between his home and his business, but not without some difficulty back before the turn of the century.

1899 Trades Directory Listing:

In the Kelly’s Directory of 1899, Henry Edward Mitchell is listed twice

One listing states:

Mitchell, Henry Edward, Saw Maker and Green Grocer, 57 Coleridge Street, Hove

Change in Business Name:

In the Trades Directory of 1899, H. E. Mitchell, Saw Maker has been changed to Henry Edward Mitchell & Co. Ltd., Furnishing Ironmongers; Office & Stores, 4 North Road, Brighton

Observations:

While I have no evidence of this, I believe Henry realized that the steel plane industry was only going to take away more of his sales so he decided it was time to make a change. Two very rare examples of Henry’s ultimate baces showed a high level of metal work and I believe this craft was the specialty of Henry’s oldest living son, Frederick William. Based on those two assumptions, it is not surprising that the young Frederick took over the business on North Road in approximately 1898, incorporated it and started producing Iron fixtures for stores and offices. Given Henry’s age at the time, I don’t think he was ready to retire so he opened his combined green grocer and tool store where he continued sharpening saws, making planes and selling carrots and potatoes until he final called in quits in the latter part of 1900.

1901 Census:

Henry Edward 58 yrs, Retired Ironmonger

Living at “Hatherley Villa” on Bella Vista Road

Lily 17 yrs, Henry E. 15 yrs, Rose J. 10 yrs

Servant, Alise Spilargki 24 yrs

Lodger, Jeffery M. May 60 yrs, Living on own means

Source Citation: Class: RG13; Piece: 910; Folio: 75; Page: 16

Observation:

This is the first time Henry has used "Ironmonger" for his profession, although it is in keeping with the new direction of his business. All of the planes that I have in my collection have "Sheffield" blades in them, telling me Henry wasn't in the iron works business until his son took it over.

Death:

3^rd Quarter 1914, Keymer, Sussex, England

Markers' Marks:

H. E. Mitchell’s makers' marks start with one that simply displays, “H. E. Mitchell, Eastbourne”. When he started his second business, his new mark was "H.E. Mitchell, Brighton". Around 1875 he started to consistently display his mark as “H. E. Mitchell, 4 North Road, Brighton”. In the early 1890s he added the lion crest to the text.

Observations:

Judging by the listings in the census throughout Henry’s life, his early bankruptcy aside, he was a reasonably successful businessman. His success is proven by his ability to retire at the early age of 58, living out his remaining years as a country “gentleman” in his servant run “villa”, located in a small town north of Brighton.

His business was always listed as “Saw Maker”, but he made a number of  “Joining Tools” for the carpentry and cabinetmaker trades. He was a dedicated promoter, never missing a chance to advance his business, as shown by his listings in the different directories and his use of counter-stamped coins, the equivalent of today’s coupons.

While his tools are very rare and difficult to locate today, I have recently found examples in England, the United States, Canada and Australia. While their numbers are very limited compared to other 19^th century toolmakers’ examples, they do not command a premium in price.

Examples of Henry E. Mitchell’s Tools:

Here is a photo of my Mitchell collection as it stood in December 2010. Thankfully, I have been able to add a few more examples of his work since then.

Offer to Purchase:

If you have any examples of H. E. Mitchell tools in your cabinet, let me know what it would take to get you to part with them. If you have a saw or brace of his that you don't want to part with, I'd be forever grateful if you could send me a photo of them. My email address is mitchell@liquiddesigns.ca

While reaching out to ol' Henry's direct decedents I discovered that the vast majority of them didn't know Henry was a toolmaker. Not one of them held an example of his work, nor did they know anyone who did. My gut tells me we are related, so I am not collecting this man's work to use or as an investment. I am collecting them so future Mitchell's will know what their ancestors were all about.

Peace,

Mitchell

An Enjoyable Way To Recuperate...

Occasionally, since starting this blog, I have allowed my love for cars to creep into its posts. I don't think that is a bad thing as I don't remember meeting too many woodworkers that aren't into cars to some degree. Two that quickly come to mind are Chris Schwarz, with his restored Karmann Ghia and Jim Bode, who once was a car dealership manager. I guess it makes sense as fitting wood and messing with tools is in the same area as fitting metal and messing with engines.

I used to change cars as often as I changed my socks. As a kid, I would buy an old junker for $25, mess with it enough to make it unique and at least run reasonably, then sell it for anywhere from $100 to $200, making a small profit on most. Where I used to loose money on the deal was when I decided to swap engines, dumping the old flathead 8s (most were old Fords) for more current power plants. I didn't do this often, but when I did, I usually went overboard, which never surprised anyone. I must add here that there is no better feeling of accomplishment and power than dumping the clutch and feeling the front end of the car lift two feet into the air.

As I grew older, my income grew enough that I could finally afford to really mess with cars. The problem I had was that, to maintain that income, I didn't have the time to do a build. During this period of my life I got in the habit of changing cars every four years, instead of every four months.

When I closed my business and turned to teaching, I had the time but not the inclination to build a car. Getting my hands all grimy and burning my butt with a torch all the time no longer appealed to me, so I took another route that allowed me to still call myself a "car-guy". I started buying a car and keeping it, doing most of the maintenance myself. I kept my last car 11-years and put 350,000-km on it, or 218,000-miles. That doesn't sound impressive until you realize that I am talking about a 1995 Ford Taurus Wagon that never had a head off of it or any work done to the tranny. It probably ran better the day I sold it than it did the day I bought it.

I replaced it with a 2007 Ford Fusion, which, due to its size, my wife likes much more than the Taurus, although I miss the extra cargo area of a wagon. Given my wife is the driver in the family, it is important that she be happy with it. While on the road I'm just the navigator, but when it is sitting in the driveway, I'm the primary maintenance man, and that is the part I truly love in this arrangement. The Fusion is 6-years old now and has 130,000-km, or 81,000-miles, but with luck and a bit of elbow grease, it might surpass the life of the Taurus.

While I mainly maintain the car for my own enjoyment, the reality is, we save a fortune each year by doing so. A car takes its biggest hit with depreciation in the first four years of its life. We bought the Fusion for $32,000 and after 4-years, it was worth, retail, about $11,000. Three years later, it is down to $7,000, so you can see how much the depreciation factor is slowing. In another couple of years it will be worth $3,000, and that is where it will sit for the next four or five years. At this point in this Fusion's life, depreciation is no longer a factor in the cost of owning it. Now, the only number that counts is how much is spent on maintenance and repairs.

I believe the better a car is maintained, the less it will need in repairs, and it is the repairs that cost the money. Maintenance needs to be consistent and properly scheduled. The Fusion, like the Taurus, receives a going-over four times a year. The oil and filter is changed, using synthetic for its higher lubricating properties and its longer life. The air cleaner is changed, belt inspected, all levels checked and topped up, and the tires rotated. Once a year the radiator is flushed and refilled with new anti-freeze, the brake pads are replaced, every system is inspected, adjusted or replaced as required, and the  engine and transmission are shampooed, as a clean engine runs cooler. Every 3-years, the transmission is flushed, the gasket replaced and new fluid added (this is why the Taurus transmission lasted, unlike every other Taurus on the road), as well as replacing the fuel pump filter.

While this isn't a complete list, you get the drift. I keep the car on a consistent maintenance regiment, changing out parts before they fail so the drivetrain components and the parts they mate to are protected.

One of the things I do when I replace parts is look to the aftermarket for a better product. Because the brake pads got changed every year since the car was new, the brake rotors never needed turning as they didn't get heavily scored. While changing out the pads this often costs me more, for me, it was worth it to avoid turning the rotors as I believe once turned, they are not as effective. Now, going on 8-years of use, it is time to change those rotors out.

I don't understand why anyone would play loose and fast with their brakes. When my son came to me to ask me to help him hop-up his Scion, he asked me what was the first thing I thought we should do to it. I told him that the brakes are first, and after he could stop, then he should look at going faster. He changed his brakes out with drilled and slotted rotors with ceramic pads and then we added a supercharger, custom exhaust and other modifications. He took the car from 160hp to about 250hp, and while it will go like scat and corner like it is on rails, it has a shorter stopping distance than it had when it left the factory, and to me, that is more important than any improvements in its numbers on the track.

Searching the aftermarket, I came up with a company just outside of Toronto that produces and sells drilled and slotted rotors, as well as ceramic pads for the Fusion. I ordered a complete set, which were delivered last week. The cost of these aftermarket rotors are not much more than Ford replacement parts, but this aftermarket set-up fades less, runs cooler and as a result, stops the car in a considerably shorter distance. This last point makes any extra work and costs well worth it as my wife drives this car, not me, and if I can give her an edge to keep her safe, I'm going to do it.

Replacing the stock brake set-up with this aftermarket one is for my wife's benefit, but making them pretty is strictly for me, so before they go on, I want to paint out the areas where the pads don't touch, but the rust can grow. Obviously, I really don't need to do this, but it is just one of those little touches that makes my older car look better than it did when it was new.

Once the weather breaks, I'll change out the rotors and pads, painting the callipers with the same heat-resistant brake paint I used on the rotors. At that same time I'll swap out the summer wheels and tires for the winter ones that are on it now.

The one on the right is an untouched front rotor. The one in the
middle is a rear rotor taped for painting, while the one on
the left is a finished rear rotor, ready to install.

Given I am supposed to be taking it easy, recuperating from the instillation of a pacemaker, I can't think of a more enjoyable way to spend an hour or so a day then messing about with some car parts.

Peace,

Mitchell

I'm Way Too Young For This...

Sorry, but to be frank, I'm way too young for this shit.

Yesterday was a pretty weird day for me. It started in my family doctor's office where I went to have the stitches in my head removed. I first had to sit for ¾ of an hour with a peroxide-soaked rag on my head. The peroxide had to dissolve the gunk that covered the cut so they could find the stitches. Once the forest was cleared, it felt like they went at them with a dull knife and ripped them from my skin using fencing pliers. Wow, what an ordeal for a couple of threads.

After the nurses had finished having their go, the doctor came in. I have been a patient of this doctor for about 35-years and he is, without a doubt, one of the coolest people I know. We often compare notes on our lives during the 60s and 70s, or at least what we both can remember of those times. He came in, had a look at the nurses' handiwork, took my temperature, had a listen all around my chest and back, and then took my blood pressure. Once he was done with all of this, he then inspected the incision and the bulge beneath it to ensure that the pacemaker was still where the specialist put it. When he was all done he announced, with great gusto I might add, that I was doing "splendid" and "wonderful" and everything was "perfect".

I think he was a bit disappointed in me as I didn't clap my hands in glee and jump up and down giggling. It is not that I'm not appreciative and I do feel lucky I came through this with less aggravation and pain that what I have experienced having a root cannel, but dammit, I'm way too young for this shit.

When I arrived back home I checked the mail and there was an envelope from Biotronik, the company that made the pacemaker. Opening it, I found a plastic registration card and a covering letter.

Strangely, I am happy about the card, another one that I shouldn't leave home without. It tells the readers that I am the not-so-proud owner of a Biotronik Model 359529, Serial Number 66260638, along with the same information for the two probes that snake through my arteries and into two of my heart's chambers. It also gives my name, address and physician. I am happy to have it because if I didn't, my wife would force me to wear the t-shirt shown below for the rest of my life.

The strange part of this little package was the accompanying letter. In it, I was told to verify the personal information displayed on the card and if there were any mistakes or omissions, I should let the company know. The reason the contact information is so important is so the company can "notify (me) of new information concerning the safety, effectiveness or performance of the implant, and any required corrective action." How is that for giving you the warm and fuzzies of comfort?

I guess I should be thankful they didn't close the letter with, "...and thank you for choosing a Biotronik product."

Peace,

Mitchell

Don't Trust Mortality...

That one post that I made when I announced I was bowing out for the summer to tend to my tomatoes has really come back to bite me on the ass a few times since. Damn!

What I said at the time was, "I'm going to do my impersonation of Vito Corleone and tend to my tomatoes, sans the heart attack, I hope." Kick my butt if you ever see I've used a similar style of comment.

I started to have bouts of lightheadedness and dizziness a couple of months ago and immediately called the doctor and made an appointment to have a physical. The day before my appointment, it appears I passed out while I was out walking the dog. I just woke up flat on my back in the middle of the sidewalk with no idea how I got there. I got myself home and my wife immediately drove me to the closest emergency hospital. 

As it turns out, the electrical controls in my heart have slowly been short circuiting over the past few months and as a result, my body has been considerably shortchanged when it comes to oxygen. When your oxygen content gets too low for things to work properly, things shut down. This isn't the most serious issue in the world of medicine, but I can tell you that one of its major downsides is the lack of warning. Scares the bejeebers out of you, I can assure you.

When I hit emergency, they immediately hooked me up to a ECG monitor and whisked me up to the Cardiac Care Unit. The next day they informed me they were going to install a pacemaker and that was that. Thirty hours after I arrived I had a new little friend tucked under my skin just below my left shoulder blade and that was that. 

Oh, ya. The doctor also told me that I hit my head on the sidewalk when I passed out and it took four staples to close the gash. I don't believe her - not in the least. That crack in my skull was made by my mortality that had dropped by to introduce itself. To get my attention, the little bugger hauled off and kicked me in the head when I was already down. I'm sure of it.

Peace,

Mitchell

It's Not Nice To Screw With Mother Nature...

So I spent the summer tending my garden.

My old man was a gardener. When I was a kid, he bought a house that sat on a huge parcel of land and turned half of it into a vegetable garden. The property came with a bunch of apple, pear and cherry trees, as well as trestles full of grapes, raspberries and blueberries. He then added just about every type of vegetable that would grow in this climate. 

I can't tell you how much I hated that garden. Every spring he would push me to till the damned thing, and every spring I would have to hear the, "When I was your age working the farms..." yarn that drove me nuts. 

Fast-forward fifty years and there I was, willingly hanging on to a rotor tiller, whacking up the sod in my back yard, merrily turning it into a vegetable garden. I removed the sod, broke up the hard clay earth, mixed in sand and added sheep and cow shit to make it as comfy and cosy as I could for tomatoes, potatoes, peppers, corn and carrots, including a bit of a herb section to round it out. I weeded that bugger two or three times a week, spent a fortune watering it, spent hours trimmed things, staked others, and even made a couple of very cool looking tomato cages to make it all look more interesting and inviting. By the beginning of August we started to get a few juicy samplings as the plants started to come into maturity. This, of course, only served to make me work harder at it. I started pulling weeds more often, turning the soil between the rows bi-weekly and even started talking to them, although none of the rude buggers answered.

Come mid-August, I looked out the window overlooking the backyard and saw this...

I had noticed before I started that our property sat lower than our two neighbours', but didn't realize how low until we had a horrendous rain one Saturday afternoon. When the 5" of water finally disappeared, only two tomato plants and the impatiens that bordered it all survived.

I remember standing there, looking out that window at this lake that was once my garden patch, and hearing my old man laughing...

Peace,

Mitchell

The Eagle Has Landed...

Back at the end of August I wrote about a problem I was having coming up with a machinist who didn't want the family jewels to turn a pretty simple base of a gift I had bought for my son.

It got worse.

I went with Plan-B and solved the base problem myself, but when I took my little package to the post office to send it to him, I got the second shock of my life.

My kid now lives in Dubai for a few years, so I packaged up the gift with as much padding as I could gather up as I figured it was going to be in for a rough ride. Presenting it to the clerk who weighed it. The package came in a just under 2 kilograms, or about 4 1/2 pounds.

If I wanted it there in a hurry, they wanted $250. The Canadian Post Office's idea of a "hurry", is 3 to 4 weeks.

The next one down on the list was $85, which would take 4 to 6 weeks. I was already late with the gift so I laid down the 85-bucks and left the package.

Today, 49 days later (that is 7 weeks according to my math), the parcel finally arrived.

This is what was in it...

It is a radiator temperature gauge made by the Moto Meter Co. in, or around, 1928. The meter itself was New/Old Stock and is in perfect condition. The wings could be from the same year or older, as they came off a 1928 Chevrolet in California. The wings were in good shape as far as nicks and wear goes, but it didn't have any plating left. I sent it out and had it nickel plated, as that is what it originally would have been, as chrome didn't come into play until one or two years later.

The base is just a 4" block of polished acrylic. I drilled and tapped a hole to match the meter's sensor stud and cranked the whole lot home.

The thought behind this gift is that it is an "after-market" piece. Neither Ford nor Chevrolet offered these as either standard equipment or as an option, although you could buy one through their dealers. My son is into after-market parts. He has taken a basic Scion tC, which pumped out 160 h.p., and through the magic of his mechanical ability, not to mention his ability to pay for after-market parts, the thing is probably pushing over 300 h.p. now.

I wanted to show him that adding things to cars to make them your own didn't start when he was born, but has been around since the wheel was invented. I'm also hoping to make a "collector" out of him.

Peace,

Mitchell

I Thought Times Were Tough...

I don't get it. Times are tough, yet for some reason, I can't find a machinist that will take on a small job.

Over the years I have produced a lot of one-offs; car parts, camera parts, tool parts and just plain weird stuff. Over this same timeframe, finding a machinist has become more and more difficult.

Years ago, machinists were a dime a dozen, most working out of horribly run-down buildings in the worst parts of town. You could tell a good machinist by the amount of metal scrap he had around his building. Stepping inside a machine shop was scary as hell. The vast majority - no - all of them that I ever visited were covered in decades of dirt and metal filings with stacks of material everywhere. You entered through a decrepit door and followed a wandering aisle between the junk and machines to find and talk to the owner, a cigar smoking, unshaven, filthy-overall-covered guy who talked to you like you were the last person in the world he wanted to deal with. But deal with you he did, making the part to your exact specifications and charging you a price that matched the time and materials he spent making them.

Fast forward to today, and things are completely different. Machine shops are now housed in buildings that equal IBM's head office, thats if you get to see the building at all. Mainly you deal with them through the Internet, attaching your drawings to forms that are more unfriendly than the actual human-variety of machinist of yore. If you are lucky, they will reply. If you are really lucky, their reply will include a quote. The one thing you don't need to count on luck for, though, is that the quotes you will receive will make the project ridiculously expensive and will force you to scuttle the whole idea.

Case in point is a project I am currently working on; a birthday present for my son. I can't state what it is here yet as sometimes he surprises me and actually checks out what his old man has to say on this blog, so I can't give the idea away before I actually give the result away, if you get my drift.

I have come up with an idea for what my old man used to call, a "dust collector". A dust collector is nothing more than something that looks good but doesn't do a damned thing, a concept my old man wasn't particularly enamoured with. For this particular dust collector idea, I need two steel discs, both 3" in diameter and 1/2" thick, each turned slightly different. It also requires 1 1/2" of 2 1/2" steel tubing. Attached is a drawing of how these three pieces are to fit together.

Of the 20 machine shops I sent out drawings to, 8 replied. Two of those that replied basically stated they were not interested in the job. The six actual quotes that I did receive ranged from a low of $275 to a high of $600.

$275 to $600 for three pieces of steel that I could buy at Metal Warehouse for less than $22. One piece, the steel tubing, requires no further working once it is cut to length and the remaining two parts are ones that I could turn myself in less than an hour if I had a simple metal lathe. If I, someone who works in metal once every 8 years or so, could turn these parts in less than an hour, someone who does this day-in and day-out should be able to do it in half that time. I get that, in business, you have to get a return on your capital investments, but give me a break for God's sake. Lets say it takes an hour to make all three parts. At $275, that means the machine shop is charging $253 an hour and at $600, it becomes $578 an hour. Neither is a cost that reflects the company's investments. They just reflect gouging. No wonder work like this is going to places like China.

At first, I did Internet searches for machine shops within my geographical area, which turned out to be few and far between. Only 4 of the 20 quote requests went out to shops within the greater Toronto area. I then expanded my search to include machine shops in North America. The remaining 16 quotes went out to shops located throughout Canada and the United States. Surprisingly, out of the 8 that did respond with a quote, the most expensive were located in Texas and California. The cheapest was in Michigan while the two Canadian firms that replied came in with quotes of $325, still way to much for the work required, Canadian or not. In the end, I did send out one request for a quote to a company in China, but I haven't heard back from them as yet. I am curious what they will come in at.

Given that this is the third project that has been scuttled by machinist quotes, I just might turn my attention to finding a little metal lathe for sale on eBay, one selling for the price of the lower quote for this particular job. If one turns up, I'll buy it and turn my own parts from now on and the hell with the new age of machinists.

I have always thought that the worst enemy of capitalism was capitalists. Now I'm convinced.

Peace,

Mitchell