07-29-2005, 12:00 AM
ReRavel:
Trying to change the subject. Another one of the cheap tricks of the problems of humanity. You are not getting away with ANYTHING, Crow. It all comes back around. There is nothing quite so pitiful as a wasted life.
Crow:
No, I'd not been tryin' to change the subject. Of course I'm not trying to 'get away with' anything either, that's silly.
I'm up real early. It's not yet four AM, and I'm havin' my morning coffee here and catchin' up on the posts. Hmm, not much here today...
I've been all fired up on my woodworking once again these past few days. I've been making a cupboard similar to one pictured in a book I have on Early Canadian Furniture. I've got the carcase all assembled and it's beginning to really look like something. Now for the fun stuff, making the mouldings.
I'm using antique tools to build it, and the mouldings are no exception. Indeed, despite there being so very many router cutters available these days for cutting profiles into the edge of a piece of wood, precious few are of any use at all in the making of period furniture. It's the strangest thing, really.
Anyhow, I am fortunate enough to have a fair collection of antique moulding planes, and yesterday I spent quite awhile honing the blades of a few I intend to be using. That's persnickety work, very focused and tedious, but then there's nothing quite so satisfying as seeing the shavings flowing freely from the throat of a well-tuned and sharpened moulding plane, as the profile emerges along the edge of a board. Talk about magic!
The mouldings are made by combining two or more profiles, often applied to the same strip of wood before it is attached to the cabinet with tiny finishing nails and glue. The number of combinations of hollows and rounds and coves and beads to produce a pleasing profile are surprising. I used a number of strips of nice clear pine, making up short lengths of various forms to try against the cabinet. I think I've got it figured now, so this morning I'll go out and run the lot, standing in the quiet shop by my workbench, plane in hand, the repetitive strokes of the tool making a pleasant rhythm for the body... I think this is 'sacred' work, doing woodwork in this old and timeless way.
Then I have the doors to make, cutting and fitting the mortise and tenon joints, and making up the panels that fit into grooves in the frames... And the upper doors shall be glazed, so I'll be making up little sash with a couple of other nice old planes.
And when it's all assembled I'll be rubbing it down with many coats of oil before bringing it into my kitchen and filling it with dishes, and it will be the first thing one notices when they come in the back door, and I'll be sure to display all the lovely old chipped plates I've been collecting, in the upper cupboard.
Sounds dumb? Gosh, it makes me happy! And perhaps on Sunday I'll drive out to the Speedway to the Swap meet, and maybe I'll find another nice moulding plane still useable with a bit of care for under fifty bucks, or a couple more old chipped plates from England, or maybe a 'Redwing' crock from Medicine Hat, Alberta. I've some old stuff I would like to sell there one of these days, from all the collecting I've done over the years.
It makes me feel fine, filling my life with old things which haven't been in use for years, and bringing them back to life again. It's a real passion of mine.
What do *you* enjoy, ReRavel? How does the above constitute a 'wasted life' in your estimation?
Trying to change the subject. Another one of the cheap tricks of the problems of humanity. You are not getting away with ANYTHING, Crow. It all comes back around. There is nothing quite so pitiful as a wasted life.
Crow:
No, I'd not been tryin' to change the subject. Of course I'm not trying to 'get away with' anything either, that's silly.
I'm up real early. It's not yet four AM, and I'm havin' my morning coffee here and catchin' up on the posts. Hmm, not much here today...
I've been all fired up on my woodworking once again these past few days. I've been making a cupboard similar to one pictured in a book I have on Early Canadian Furniture. I've got the carcase all assembled and it's beginning to really look like something. Now for the fun stuff, making the mouldings.
I'm using antique tools to build it, and the mouldings are no exception. Indeed, despite there being so very many router cutters available these days for cutting profiles into the edge of a piece of wood, precious few are of any use at all in the making of period furniture. It's the strangest thing, really.
Anyhow, I am fortunate enough to have a fair collection of antique moulding planes, and yesterday I spent quite awhile honing the blades of a few I intend to be using. That's persnickety work, very focused and tedious, but then there's nothing quite so satisfying as seeing the shavings flowing freely from the throat of a well-tuned and sharpened moulding plane, as the profile emerges along the edge of a board. Talk about magic!
The mouldings are made by combining two or more profiles, often applied to the same strip of wood before it is attached to the cabinet with tiny finishing nails and glue. The number of combinations of hollows and rounds and coves and beads to produce a pleasing profile are surprising. I used a number of strips of nice clear pine, making up short lengths of various forms to try against the cabinet. I think I've got it figured now, so this morning I'll go out and run the lot, standing in the quiet shop by my workbench, plane in hand, the repetitive strokes of the tool making a pleasant rhythm for the body... I think this is 'sacred' work, doing woodwork in this old and timeless way.
Then I have the doors to make, cutting and fitting the mortise and tenon joints, and making up the panels that fit into grooves in the frames... And the upper doors shall be glazed, so I'll be making up little sash with a couple of other nice old planes.
And when it's all assembled I'll be rubbing it down with many coats of oil before bringing it into my kitchen and filling it with dishes, and it will be the first thing one notices when they come in the back door, and I'll be sure to display all the lovely old chipped plates I've been collecting, in the upper cupboard.
Sounds dumb? Gosh, it makes me happy! And perhaps on Sunday I'll drive out to the Speedway to the Swap meet, and maybe I'll find another nice moulding plane still useable with a bit of care for under fifty bucks, or a couple more old chipped plates from England, or maybe a 'Redwing' crock from Medicine Hat, Alberta. I've some old stuff I would like to sell there one of these days, from all the collecting I've done over the years.
It makes me feel fine, filling my life with old things which haven't been in use for years, and bringing them back to life again. It's a real passion of mine.
What do *you* enjoy, ReRavel? How does the above constitute a 'wasted life' in your estimation?