Hope springs eternal, 2024 edition.
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Bathroom Vanity Update
Quick one today.
I’ve glued up the frame for the bathroom vanity, and I think it came out great. The entire frame came out of a single chunk of reclaimed Southern Yellow Pine barn beam, so the color match is pretty good. I’m quite pleased. An exterior oil finish will darken the wood a bit, but won’t detract from the character of the reclaimed wood. And die forged nails will reinforce each of the stretchers and slats (mostly because it will look nice).
The table top will also be SYP, but from a different board. I just didn’t have enough after cutting around the worst nails and checks and defects to get the wood for the frame, even taking into account the massive cutout for the vessel sink. The color match isn’t perfect, but I’m arranging the boards to make it work.
The small remaining chunk of the beam that went into the frame would have been enough for a lower shelf (slatted and nailed onto the lower stretchers). But upon further reflection, I think having the shelf boards match the tabletop boards will balance things aesthetically.
Stay tuned for more about the tabletop.
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Pushing Boundaries
It’s been tough to find enjoyable workshop time of late. There is some work being done on the house and as cramped as my 12′ x 13′ (3.5m x 4m) workshop is at the best of times, it’s even worse when more than half of it is filled with furniture from other rooms. I’ve got about 5 feet of workbench (at the vise end) and 2 feet of space along the front to move around. I can reach all the tools in my wall cabinet, but it takes a bit of leaning on my tiptoes to get the coping saw. Even so, I’ve a project I need to complete, so I push onward.
The vanity in the downstairs bathroom has always been subpar. It’s internet furniture pressboard bullshit that I bought when I first got the house just needed to make a gross washroom usable on a DIY basis. Now that the whole bathroom is being updated by professionals, I figured I’d tackle making a new vanity that is up to my own specs.
The last few chunks of reclaimed old growth Southern Yellow Pine barn beam would be just enough for the frame and a top. My little bandsaw was instrumental in this; I don’t think hand ripping would have left enough stock. I have officially hit “can’t live without it” status on that tool, for what it’s worth.
In terms of style, I’ve always been fascinated with the “slatted” style of furniture. I think the first time I saw it was a Restoration Hardware media cabinet. But it seems a dreadful waste of material because the slats tend to be decorative (and not structural). But what if they were structural? They’d essentially make a wide board out of a few small sticks (id est, offcuts from the bandsaw): maximum strength with minimum material.
As an aside (as if my entire collected works weren’t just one massive, frenetic soliloquy), this is the kind of project where a hollow chisel mortiser really expedites things. I couldn’t centralize the mortises for the top the rails or the slats and have mortises of any great substance, so the outer walls of the mortises ended up less than 1/4″ (6mm). So not something where brace and bit boring or chisel chopping is without significant risk of blowing out the whole thing. And when you don’t have material to spare (and can’t afford to scrap the work), a hollow chisel mortiser really shines.
It occurs to me that, even with multiple slats, a piece like this still needs substantial, double shouldered tenons for the top rails and the lower rail. This will increase the bearing surface of the main joints in the structure and should encourage squareness in the overall assembly and a strong frame. The slats themselves can be single shouldered, I think (again, just to use all of the available material). On the lower rails, a tight fit becomes a necessary. So everything gets fettled with a router plane.
I would typically drawbore each joint on something like this, but there really isn’t room for a size of peg that would give any real strength. I think, instead, I’ll use die forged nails (after finish) to lock everything in place. I’m not worried about the glue failing, I don’t think. But some extra reinforcement can’t hurt in a bathroom with wildly-varying humidity.
But I’ll tackle that after I finish the frame. I’ll also talk more about making the top where the sink will sit (this is for a vessel sink).
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Fetch the Board Stretcher
Happy New Year, everyone! I realized I missed my usual “6am Eastern on New Years Day” post. I think that’s because I went to an actual party and didn’t get to bed right at 730pm like I have for as long as this blog existed. But anyway…
A while ago, I obtained an old growth slab of what I believe is Slash Pine (one of the species of Southern Yellow Pine) from a reclamation sawmill. It’s about 16 inches wide, 90 inches long, and after flattening is still a solid 3 1/2″ thick. It’s mostly flat at this point, anyway. I actually made an impromptu router sled because it’s so damned hard (the resin long ago crystallized and, between that and the barn grit in the checks, it was eating O1 steel for breakfast). This slab will make a wonderful workbench top once I laminate a fascia board along the front edge and square the ends, though.
Another workbench, you say? Well yes, of course. I’ve been working on my 8 foot maple Nicholson which I made in the thick of the pandemic. It’s got the nicest leg vise I’ve made (it’s angled, uses a cog and screw instead of a pin board, and opens and closes very smoothly). But I’m kind of over front aprons again; it makes using bench dogs in the top too difficult, even if the apron is great for edge planing long, wide boards. And I have just the one workbench at home after giving all the others away. A second wouldn’t hurt.
This new bench will be in the Shaker style, like at Hancock Shaker Village. Leg vise, tail vise, sliding deadman, some drawers underneath. In fact, I’ve already made the leg assemblies. But unlike the Shakers, this bench will knock down (like a Moravian workbench). And I have a linear bearing and a 1 1/2″ hardened steel shaft to use as a parallel guide for the leg vise instead of a pin board (or even a cog and screw or crisscross). McMaster-Carr is the best.
When making the recess for the linear bearing, though, I didn’t have a good way to make a 2 3/8″ hole. So I chopped it out octagonally. And it was scruffy and didn’t fit well and I had to shim it. All of which ate at my brain and caused me to set the whole project aside for a while.
I’ve finally come back to it. And it still eats my brain.
And what is a fellow to do when a bad bench installation is ruining a good time? Cut the offending portion of the leg off and add some wood back on, of course. About that…
First step was to saw off the offending area and square up the end grain. And also dig out and prepare an offcut of the same species that has a decent grain match. If I had access to a Festool Domino, this would essentially be the end of the process. Four dominos and some glue: Bob’s your uncle.
But absent a Festool Domino, how does one join two boards, end grain to end grain? Finger joints are probably the best option, because of the large amount of long grain gluing surface. For a hand tool guy like me, that’s essentially a bridle joint. I think in this application, it would be strongest if the mortise was in the remaining leg and the tenon on the added piece. I almost made bridle guides, but that probably would have taken longer than just sawing and paring.
Once the mortise was nicely pared to the lines, I roughed out a tenon and finessed it to a friction fit with a router plane. Remember to ease the inner parts of the mortise to leave room for glue on the mating surfaces. A dry fit looked like so:
Will a 1″x1″ tenon (with 7/8″ mortise walls) be strong enough for a front leg of a workbench, even with TiteBond Thick & Quick PVA? Fuck if I know. But this is poplar, which doesn’t split easily, so I think I’ll be okay. I plan to add a trio of 3/8 oak pegs as reinforcement along the length of the tenon, which should help. Maybe a couple of metal mending plates too just for luck. But I think it will be strong enough, even without pegs, as long as whatever parallel guide I use for the leg vise doesn’t bear just on the new wood.
To be clear, I almost bought a Festool Domino today. But I’m glad I stayed strong and didn’t. Not that having a Festool Domino is bad; I just kind of enjoy doing things the hard way. And I do think this fix is a good solution and should stand the test of time.
Or not. Fuck if I know.
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Building on a Theme
If anyone asks me what kind of workbench they should build when just getting into woodworking, I have only one answer: a Mike Siemsen-style Naked Woodworker English workbench. The video is an excellent step by step (my only complaint is that it doesn’t show cutting the lap joints on the lower stretchers for the leg assemblies). But more importantly, it is a design that a true beginner with a small set of tools can knock together with a reasonable chance of success.
I have built a few such workbenches. But I’ve noticed that pretty much all of my shop furniture pieces end up in the Naked Woodworker style too. Id est, glue and screw laminating various pieces to create the lap joints and other connections without having to cut any real joinery.
One of the important things about Mike’s design is leaving the top rails a bit proud (shown above), so they can be leveled with a hand plane to form a flat plane to attach the tabletop. This is very useful when using rough construction lumber but still wanting precision in the final piece.
Abrupt segue:
I fully subscribe to the hypothesis that the best woodworking hand tool is a band saw. I can absolutely spit a gauge line with a hand saw (although it has taken practice) and I am able to saw a perfect shoulder with a back saw (with a little bit of chisel paring). But a well tuned band saw just makes things go quicker (at least the cheek part of the cut).
I have the most basic version of a band saw with a coarse (skip tooth) blade, but it can cut as fine of joinery as I need. If I could go back in time, I would have bought this thing so much sooner. And now, it moves around.
Sometimes I wonder if having a bandsaw will atrophy my hand sawing skills. But then I need to resaw some 16/4 stock and I forget about my previous qualms.
And that, my friends, is the true meaning of Christmas.
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A Piece of History (Sort of)
I went up north for a quick summer weekend and did something I don’t usually do: peruse the antique shops. This was pretty fruitful, honestly. I found a boarded chest made from 12″ x 7/8″ clear pine which will clean up very nicely. It’s about 24x14x14. It was last used as a toy chest (I know from the several Battleship peg pieces inside it) but it has some signs of old tills. More on that another time.
I also found a nice Disston D7 (I think) hand saw, crosscut. The plate is arrow straight with no kinks that I can see. Even the nib is intact. The only defect (aside from a heavy black patina on the blade that comes from being stored in barn-like conditions) is a small chip off the top horn of the tote. Easily fixed (or, honestly, just sanded smooth and left alone). I’ll do a quick restoration post on that one too in the future.
But the best find (in my opinion) was a wooden jack plane in remarkable condition. It’s stamped with “New York Tool Co.” (which my cursory research showed was a brand used by the Auburn Tool Co in the late second half of the 19th century). It’s 16 inches long and seems to be a No. 12. I didn’t even argue with the sticker price at the antique shop (which was $25).
The strike button on the front of the plane is pristine and there is no mushrooming to speak of on the iron (mushrooming happens from consistent use of a metal hammer or mallet to adjust the depth and lateral adjustment of the iron). There are also no mallet dents on the heel of the plane; just a few shallow checks away from the sole.
The tote is fully in tact, with just a couple of knicks showing lighter wood below which are probably just from being in a box bumping into other antique store fare (and not from use). The tote itself is a bit wobbly and just need regluing after 130 years. In fact, the only meaningful patina on the entire plane is on the back of the tote (where the palm of the user would be). If I had mineral spirits and denatured alcohol with me on the trip, I probably could have freshened it up to like new.
The mouth is still tight. Not tight for a jack plane, mind you; tight for any wooden plane. The front of the mouth is crisp and 90 degrees to the sides of the sole. The back of the mouth (behind the iron) is a little chipped but that seems pretty common on wooden soled planes where the bed comes to such a fragile point. A couple swipes with a fine cut file will clean it right up. I’m not even sure the sole has ever been flattened, but it didn’t take much to true it with a fore plane. And there are no splits on the cheeks around the wedge.
The iron looks pretty much fresh to me; I don’t think it’s ever been reground. There were no shavings caught between the iron and the chip breaker when I pulled the two apart; just a little flaky orange rust. Other than being sharpened a bit out of square, and some camming on the cap iron screw, you’d be hard pressed to prove this thing ever actually saw any real use. There aren’t even any of the usual paint splatters or other stains from being near a workbench.
All in all, I have a hard time believing that someone made even a part time living with this tool. It’s just too pristine. It’s possible there was a hobbyist in the late 19th century, perhaps an attorney or accountant, who took pride in the upkeep of his tools, even though he rarely put them to heavy use. But that seems a bit too romantic and hits a bit too close to home.
In any event, it will have a good home with me. Even with occasional use (I’m not giving up my metal planes any time soon), this beauty will probably see more action with me that it did in its youth.
Quite a find, if I do say so myself.
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So I Herd U Liek Mudkipz
It’s no secret that I like me a sliding tray in a toolbox. See here. Or here. A pull out tray that covers the whole well is well and good if that’s your thing. I have a vintage craftsman metal toolbox that’s built that way. But I find it gets in the way on the bench.
As shown by the links above, I’ve made a few traveling toolboxes in my day. Any tool storage solution should be customized to tools it will hold, of course. Though much trial and error, I’ve settled on the perfect size (using 5/8″ pine for the case) being roughly 22″ long x 11″ wide x 9″ high. This gives plenty of room in the well for a No. 6 Stanley (my preferred “single” plane), a saw till for a small panel saw (the BTC hardware store saw is shown below, but any small hardpoint saw will fit too) and combination square, a short sweep hand brace and bits, and an eggbeater drill, plus a hammer and a sharpening stone. If the chest were taller, I’d probably add a tool rack to the back wall of the well.
But a No. 6 is only about 5 1/4″ high, and even a panel saw in its till is less than 6″. What do do with the other 3+” of well space? A sliding tray, of course, that slides front to back and holds everything else I’ll need.
3″ is too deep for a single tray of this size. Nothing you’re carrying You’d waste a ton of space. And 3″ of height is probably enough for two tiers of sliding trays (bottom probably being 1 1/2″ deep (so 1 3/4″ with the bottom)). I’ve certainly done that before in the blue toolbox.
But I thought it would be fun this time to add the second tray inside the first. So I first whipped up a single deep tray with 1/2″ pine in the usual style (1/4″ oak bottom with grain running parallel to the length of the tray, nailed onto the tray) that was about 5″ wide. I also divided off a dedicated chisel compartment, since there will be lots of piling into the rest of the tray.
To size the inside tray, I found the tallest items that would sit in the bottom of the tray tray (which was either the stock of my marking gauge or my sharpening guide) and sized some thin oak runners to that height, plus 1/8″ (see picture above). Those got glued in to the long sides of the tray. I then knocked together another tray in 3/8″ pine that was pretty much exactly half the length tray and tall enough to fill the remaining depth of the large tray (taking into account the 1/4″ oak tray bottom). The grain of the tray bottom runs perpendicular to the length of the tray this time.
I’ve found the inside tray acts as a bit of a gyroscope when this thing is on the move. The toolbox easily fits in the back seat of the car and I’ve noticed the tray whips around less than if it were a single tray. Perhaps the inner tray shifts a bit on the x axis and takes away some of the y axis momentum (inertia?) of the larger tray. Who knows?
If you need a how-to on making and fitting sliding trays in a tool chest, I highly recommend the Christopher Schwarz 2015 Popular Woodworking article on a Traveling Toolchest (a medium chest that is still big enough for a hobbyist woodworker’s set of tools). Go to the “Interior” section of the article.
This setup works so well, I also added a sliding inner tray to the drawer on my hanging tool cabinet in the shop. More on that later, but a sneak preview below.
I hope everyone gets some workshop time on the holiday weekend.
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Tiny Workbench
I had in my mind a singular vision. A mini workbench, surrounded by a tray, that sat upon an office desk. Like those perpetual motion clacking ball desk toys. But where one could plane small sticks of wood with a block plane in meditative rhythm. The small curls falling gently into a rimmed collection tray to keep things neat.
I could have sworn such a thing existed. Maybe it was advertised in an old Popular Woodworking issue. It might have been Fine Woodworking or WOOD. But it eluded me.
So I made a prototype. And it turned out great!
The bench itself is roughly 1:8 scale. The slab is 12 inches long and 3 inches wide. 1/2 inch thickness would have been to scale, but I bumped it up to 7/8 for stiffness. The wing, which functions as both a tool shelf and a shooting board, is about 1 inch wide and 1/4 inch thick. The planing stop is 1/2 inch square. For those who care, the entire setup is 19 x 7 x 3.
Let’s talk materials for a moment. This is just a prototype, so I used some tight grain Spruce framing lumber from up north. In Vermont, where my parents have a house, you can get stuff that has birdseye pattern and blue streaks but still arrow straight grain. It’s beautiful and a joy to work with.
This stock was a bit more plain, but I think still looks good. The only non-Spruce materials in the piece are the planing stop (red oak) and the base of the tray (1/2 inch birch plywood).
Spruce is rather rigid and dimensionally stable, so a good choice for this.
The workbench legs are 1 1/2 inch x 4 inch x 1 inch posts that are rabbeted (cross grain) into the slab top. The oak planing stop is also rabbeted in. The planing stop actually hides some nails reinforcing the joint between the slab and the front legs. The tool shelf is just brad nailed down to the legs.
To attach the bench to the collection tray, the legs are glued and screwed from the underside of the plywood. The tray itself is banded in 1/2 inch spruce just butt jointed around and glued and nailed on. I stuck on some nonskid furniture pads to the underside so it won’t slide around.
There is admittedly a practical purpose to this piece. There is a step down on the window sill in my office at work. The larger pots overhang the stepdown and it’s unstable without a spacer that’s level with the main sill and fully support the pot. Each spacer needs to be somewhere between 1/2 and 11/16 but the height varies. This will allow me to fine tune some pine 1 x 3/4 spacers on site.
A full size, modern block plane is probably a bit much for this setup. Perhaps I’ll clean up a slightly smaller vintage block plane from the user pile. We’ll see.
When I make a nicer version in mahogany or walnut, I may do a Basic Projects writeup. But for now, the prototype is rather serviceable.
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Bridle Joints on the Hollow Chisel Mortiser
Back during the prime of the pandemic (early 2021), I took the plunge and bought a benchtop hollow chisel mortiser (an “HCM”). At the time, the Powermatic Benchtop Mortiser was on backorder from Southern Tool (who are really great to work with [not a sponsor]). I’ve always hated boring and chopping mortises by hand. I’m totally totally fine with cutting tenons with hand tools. It’s just the donkey work of mortises that I would love to avoid. And my HCM allows me to do so.
So when it came time to cut some large bridle joints for my new forever workbench (I mean it this time!), I couldn’t help but wonder if I could do it on the HCM. I consider myself to be pretty good at following a line with a panel saw and have cut plenty of large bridle joints that way. But bridle joints are just “open” mortise and tenon joints, after all. So cutting bridles on the HCM should be easy enough with just a little planning. It’s not really intended for this purpose, but it works just fine.
First of all, it really helps if all of your leg blanks are S4S and the same dimensions, within a few shavings at least. That way, you can flip the blank in all directions and use the same fence setting for centering the mortise. It’s not fatal if things aren’t exact, as long as you use a consistent reference edge for the matching legs. But it will slow things down if you need to reset the fence after every flip end over end.
Second, leave your leg blank overlong, so there is some meat to support the temporarily enclosed mortise without blowing out. For wood species that split easily, such as Red Oak, you should probably leave a full inch. These legs are poplar, so 1/2″ was fine.
Thirdly, size your mortise to be no more than 4x (or just under 4x, ideally) the size of the bit you plan to use.
I start by defining the walls of the mortise. Assuming the mortise is centered on the leg, cut about halfway through on a full pass, flip end over end, and cut the rest of the way from the other side. Then, you can spin the leg 180 degrees and repeat the two passes. After four total passes, you have the mortise defined as shown above. Repeat for the other 3 legs until the walls of the mortise are all defined.
Now, reset the fence so you are removing half of the material remaining in the middle part of the mortise. If you’ve sized the bridle joint correctly (i.e., no more than 4x the size of your HCM bit), you only need to reset the fence this once. Remove the material only at the base of the mortise with four plunge cuts, flipping the work as before. The base of the mortise will now be fully established. No need to worry about removing the rest of the waste on the HCM, as you’re about to see.
Finally, saw off the extra length on the leg (I use my miter chop saw for big cuts like this, but hand saws are fine too). BAM! You’ve got an open mortise. You may have a small strip of waste holding the inner chunk on. Just snap it off and you’re good.
If needed, a wide chisel or a medium cut file makes quick work of smoothing any unevenness on the inside of the open mortise. But if your HCM is well set up, this may not be an issue.
Is this the most efficient way to cut bridle joints? No, not at all. Either a table saw or a band saw works faster and probably better. But I’m still learning to set up my little band saw and I wasn’t confident the cheek cuts wouldn’t wander horribly. Plus I already had the HCM set up for mortising in the lower stretchers so it was quick to move over to this operation.
While it may be a single purpose tool, I believe the HCM is the second most time saving stationary tool for the hand tool woodworker (right after the thickness planer). It’s far quieter than a router or simply chopping the mortise with chisel and mallet, and produces more predictable results. It’s faster than boring and paring out a mortise (whether with a drill press, a hand drill or a brace) and makes only the same amount of mess. All of which makes it ideal for small space woodworking.
To be clear, you don’t need a hollow chisel mortiser as a hand tool woodworker. But if I have a batch of mortises to knock out, odds are that’s where you’ll find me.
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Apartment Woodworking: Year 10 Retrospective (Part 2)
For several years, the floor of my workshop has been the OSB top of DriCore tongue and groove subfloor squares. DriCore is a modern miracle (not a sponsor, just to be clear) and going from working on the bare concrete of the basement to a fully insulated, slightly cushioned wood floor was nothing short of staggering. Not to mention eliminating the risk of a falling chisel needing a full regrind by landing edge down to the concrete. I’ve recently added some tongue and groove laminate on top of the DriCore which, even though it’s darker in color, it has actually brightened the room (I assume because the albedo of the shiner floor is higher than the OSB of the DriCore squares).
Since adding the laminate floor, I’ve been working off my 98″ Nicholson workbench, made of hard maple. This bench has by far the best leg vise I’ve ever made. It works smoothly, doesn’t bind and the foot operated cog gets real momentum because of the heft (8/4 white oak). It’s still too big for the space, and honestly could use another 2″ of benchtop depth (being a hair under 22″). But it’s the only bench currently in the room. My last buddy to buy a house needs a better workbench than the one I made him pre-pandemic. So I’m giving him my proper Moravian knockdown bench. And with my outdoor workbench neatly stacked in the garage, I’ve got room (and time) to make another full size workbench. But more on that later.
I like the vise on the maple Nicholson when cutting tenons. Unlike a pinboard variety, the cog and screw parallel guide easily adjusts between holding the tenon board widthwise to cut the tenon shoulders and cheeks and holding the mortise board lengthwise to chop and pare out the mortise. Although, in fairness, I’ve been using a hollow chisel mortiser more and more these days to do the mortise chopping.
All those tenons are currently for a new sharpening station. Essentially a trestle table about the size of a sawhorse (and, quite frankly, patterned off a Krenov-style sawhorse). The frame is made of scrap Douglas Fir 2×4 leftover from the lumber rack build and the top will be Spruce offcuts from a planting table built up in Vermont. When it’s done, it will also have a drawer for saw sharpening gear. I might even use full extension, metal drawer glides that can open from either side.
I had missed having a dedicated sharpening station that stashes in the corner. When I was working on the green Moravian, the maple Nicholson was pushed up against the wall and the sharpening station was all the way at the end. Besides having to squeeze in between my tool chest and whatever I was working on, the rest if the workbench top got super cluttered all the time. This new station will hold everything it needs to without any extra room to accumulate detritus. It will also be more accessible.
After I finish the sharpening station, the next thing is to take down the lumber rack on the right wall. It barely stores any lumber and just collects clutter (seeing a theme here?). I’ll move whatever lumber (mostly reclaimed red pine) is on it to the new lumber rack (by, unironically, hanging the racks on the back side of the lumber rack posts). That will free up more than a foot of usable floor space (and force me to organize the other crap on the racks currently).
That’s all for now. Will share some pictures when the sharpening station is finished.
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The Apartment Woodworker 