Kits for Kids

The August, 2009 edition of Popular Wood- working magazine contains an essay of mine. Called, "Kits for Kids," it appears in the "Out of the Woodwork" column, a single-page, first-person feature that appears in every issue. As its title suggests, the piece is about introducing woodworking to children by preparing kits for them to assemble. Above is the photo that accompanied the article. My grandchildren, now 8, were in their glory knowing that their picture, which included the bookcases they made with their Dad's help, would be in a national magazine! The entire experience was fun, and I can't speak too highly about the professionalism and thoughtfulness of the people at Popular Woodworking.

Planter

This cedar planter provides plenty of room for elongated plastic inserts in which a variety of items can be grown. My wife liked it so much that she asked for another. The second one now serves as our mini-herb garden.

A Shadow Box for Carole's Work

My wife and inspiration is a "small projects" person. A scroll sawyer, she makes lovely boxes, puzzles, bowls and other small items. (In fact, she's written a book about making bowls on the scroll saw -- published by Fox Chapel.) Displaying her work is a challenge. This shadow box represents one solution. I used some white oak I had sitting around, and added an inlay of walnut for interest. The shelf spacing was customized to accommodate the objects to be displayed. Because each shelf is only about an eighth of an inch thick, there are hidden reinforcements in the rear to prevent bowing. The shadow box was a success. But her work keeps on coming, and gets better all the time. She's creating her own patterns now, and the objects she's making cry out to be displayed. So more pieces like this one are soon to come.

A recent project

Here's a recent project. It measures 8" side-to-side and about 4" high. Made for a couple's newly-born youngster, it sits on her "baby dresser". The font was downloaded from MS-WORD, then enlarged. After attaching the pattern to the wood with temporary spray adhesive, I cut it out on a scroll saw. Quite a lot of fine-tuning (read "hand work") was required to make what you see here. Like all power tools, the scroll saw provides a great head start. But there's no substitute for good, old fashioned hand work.

Zen and the Art of . . .

Just got back from a brief and helpful visit with a friend who was struggling with a project. This one wasn't a woodworking project, however. He was working on his motorcycle. His attempts to change the brake pads on the rear wheel of the bike were unsuccessful. After an hour -- the job usually takes 15 minutes -- he was thoroughly disgusted. The parts should have fit but didn't, no matter how he tried to coax them into it. After watching him for a couple of minutes I asked a basic question: "Do the profiles of the new pads match the profiles of the old ones?" He thought a moment, then stopped and looked carefully, comparing old and new pads. Sure enough, they did not match up. "Damn!" he said. "I should have thought of that". Turns out the dealer had sold him the wrong parts.

I'm no mechanic, but the story illustrates an important lesson: many problems can be understood by simply observing. In all your work, not just your woodwork, take the time to look carefully. Observing, thinking, and observing again can make the difference between success and frustration.

Call it "Precision", "Attention to Detail" . . . Whatever

My current project is a cherry, Shaker-style writing desk with a leather top. It's substantial in size (28x48) and challenging. All three drawers are made with hand-cut dovetails, front and rear. Legs are tapered. The frame-and-panel top uses mortise and tenon joinery.

Like all my projects, including the planter I made a while ago (see photo above), this one was begun with two goals in mind. The first is to make something I can be proud of. The second is to challenge myself. Even though this is the third writing desk I've made in the past year, it is unlike the others in small, but important ways. For example, one desk has a glued-up, solid wood top. The other has a mitered frame top. This one differs from both of those because it uses the kind of frame-and-panel construction not usually associated with desk tops.

Because I share a shop with several people, I often find myself responding to questions and flattering comments. Most suggest I have some unusual talent or ability to do quality work others can't aspire to.

Nobody believes me, but I tell all of these commentators that there's no magic to the work I do. Nor does the work require any unusual level of skill on my part. What I have -- because I've cultivated it -- is self-discipline. Knowing that I'm not a gifted or intuitive woodworker, I work slowly and thoughtfully. I do the little things that others rarely take the time for. I sharpen my tools (from pencils to chisels) regularly, and make sure my measuring and marking are as close to perfectly accurate as possible. I make templates and story sticks and spacer blocks to ensure that no guesswork enters into my construction. I keep notes as I work, recording machine settings and other data that will help ensure that I set up machines exactly the same way every time I use them. I use featherboards each time I make a cut at a table saw to ensure that my workpiece doesn't move in a way I don't want it to. I pre-finish my pieces before I glue them up because they look better when I do.

This kind of care requires an enormous amount of time. I never let myself hurry to complete a piece. (Been there, done that!) The care I take also requires that I take a long view. I see my work itself as pleasurable. The joy is in the making. Completing a piece is fulfilling, but no more so than doing an excellent job on each component. The English writer, John Ruskin, said it well (quoted by Jim Tolpin in Woodworking Wit and Wisdom): "the highest reward for a man's toil is not what he gets for it, but what he becomes by it."