Tuesday, November 28, 2006

For slim pigs?

I admit I have yet to comb all possible references, but has anyone else ever come across oval bolstered mortise chisels, aka "Pigstickers" in sizes less than 1/8" (3mm) in width? I did, on Sunday, but I must have had a mental aberration 'cos I didn't buy them. They looked ridiculously thin but were fearsomely strong. What on earth would you want such a narrow width but such strength for? Bizarre. My malaise continues 'cos that was by no means the only tools of possible interest I saw but not one jot of enthusiasm was worked up for them. Contented myself with a very crispy 5/8" Jennings auger bit, a Marples ratchet screwdriver and yet another Eclipse 77 saw set. I may have to start giving them away as free gifts with saws at this rate... Oh, and the Old Man expressed a desire for calipers for Christmas, so a selection followed us home too. Gawd knows when I'm going to get to clean them in time though.

Meanwhile Blogger is adjuring me to switch to its new improved version - I fear mass deletion of archive and ensuing wailing and gnashing of teeth, so I'm reluctant. Oh well, if this blog suddenly vanishes you'll know what it was. With the current blogging rate you may not even notice...

Friday, November 24, 2006

Audible happiness

I dunno, it's probably me, but I find myself losing patience with a lot of threads on woodworking fora at the mo'. I'm in danger of turning into one of those old cumudgeons who poo-poos everything so instead I find myself refraining from commenting on anything just to avoid that particular Slippery Slope. I mean ten pages on sharpening when everyone'd got the gist within two was bad enough, but three pages on how best to store your planes - sole down or on their sides - is going to far isn't it? It may seem like a couple of millennia since I last used a plane in anger, but I seem to recall that when I do I'm busy thinking about the work, not the orientation of the damn plane on the damn bench. And anyway there's a layer of shavings to put the thing down on when I'm using it. Tsk, I blame the precision school of woodworking for the problem. Nothing but shavings of one or two thou ain't going to make a nice comfy bed for a #75 never mind a decent plane.

And yeah, you may assume a "Bah, humbug" or two if you like; it'd be nothing short of the truth I fear. D'you realise it's a month til Crimbo? Ye gods, and here's me still stalled in the starting gates. I wonder if folks would welcome a surprise Christmas gift in, say, February...?

On the other hand, just to momentarily haul me out of my trough of despondency, a minor bit of serendipity. I admit it didn't start out auspiciously 'cos I was pretty sure I'd over-paid for a job lot of mixed planes in a fit of insanity. Largely wooden moulders, and it turned out some of them were homemade (never trust someone trying to sell you planes in the darkest corner of their kitchen...), but on closer examination one of them stepped into a breach in a most timely manner so I warmed to them a bit more and looked a little closer at the only metal example - the bulk of a Record #044. I say the bulk, but that doesn't include more than one blade. On the other hand, to make up as it were, it did have a healthy load of extra rust as compensation. Hah hum. As it stands I don't have a complete example of a 044. I've got one that's oh-so close, but it's shy the 1/8" blade. Could it possibly be...? No need to still my beating heart 'cos I''ve been here before and been disappointed; when you're a combination plane, ah hum, "accumulator", you get used to missing parts, duplicate parts and the latter never quite fulfilling the role of the former. But hey, you still gotta try every time, haven't you? So I tried.

Hallelujah!

And yes, I think an audio special effect is a first for this blog...

Monday, November 20, 2006

Many happy returns

Tsk, I'm getting to be a very intermittant blogger these days, aren't I? Be thankful - you wouldn't enjoy it if I was blogging every day, moaning and whining about this and that. You're lucky to get the edited version of yours truly, wish I did...

'Twas the Old Man's birthday yesterday and, as predicted, he'd forgotten all about the corner brace so it came as a pleasant surprise and the necessary Brownie points were awarded as expected. Better still the wind howled and the rain came down, so I didn't miss any good tool hunting while enjoying a nice meal at a local hotel... Can't ask for more than that really, can you? Chuckle. Both my brothers and sisters-in-law also came down so we were en masse which is always good fun. Not least 'cos you can get an awful lot of mileage teasing my elder bro... On the other hand my studious nephews were missed - just when we'd got my mum trained to answer in the affirmative to a bread roll even if she didn't want one in order to pass it to a "boy", there she was finding herself plus bread roll but minus grandson. Whoops. Wood-related stuff though, was thin on the ground. There was an oak long case clock of the granddaughter size that I could have sworn sounded nine at noon, but it didn't haven't many other distinguishing features. Sigh. Times like this you could really do with living up country where there's a bit more timber used in buildings.

Oh, but on the other hand one of the Old Man's gifts was a Fein MultiMaster which might come in handy some time. Now don't look at me like that; I was good and haven't even picked it up yet, never mind pestering him for a "go".

Plenty of time for that, after all...

Wednesday, November 15, 2006

No wotchamacallit time

All right, just don't ask. I didn't get online at all on Monday; and that wasn't even because the connection was down, which will cause anyone knowing my usual internet dependency to gasp in horror. No, the connection went flaky yesterday... Shame too 'cos I have Good news about the lad and his Cage of Doom. He is now in it fulltime - much, much sooner than I feared. Not that he was, or indeed is, entirely happy, but on the other hand he's not trying to pluck out all his feathers or throwing himself at the bars in a terminal decline so I think he's okay really. As predicted, pomegranate helped smooth the path...



He's managed to muck up all those carefully scrubbed perches with all the juice of course. Sigh. Parrots, who'd have 'em?

Woodworking? Hah, don't make me laugh. I have a hazy recollection of some sort of building not far from here with, dunno, tools of some sort in it? What was it called? Some sort of work space? Shop of some kind...? So much for getting Crimbo pressies done - not touched tool to wood in weeks; feels more like years. Heigh ho, looks like I've got a parcel of plough plane website updating to do though, so that'll keep me busy and even longer from the... you know... on the tip of my tongue... place to make stuff... got some machines and such in there... wood and so forth I seem to recall... you know, the wotchamacallit...

Friday, November 10, 2006

Scraping the barrel

Remarkably we still keep getting nice sunny days (although not today) so here's a snap I took the other day of the church taken from the other side of the reservoir. It's about halfway between the left edge of the pic and the water, just below the ridge of the hill behind. In belated answer to the query in the comments box, very much a country church; I imagine all the effort put into the decoration of the building came less from the size of congregation and more from the age-old belief that spending money in the right place now will get you better seats in the afterlife...



Meanwhile, prompted by a not-entirely welcome reminder also in the comments box, I was thinking about just how far I haven't progressed in my quest for tool storage. It really is all on hold while I try and get to doing Crimbo pressies, but surely the gods can't contrive to hold me up in that respect much longer, can they?

Actually don't answer that...

But the fact is I'm seriously thinking of shelving any wild thoughts of tambours - please don't throw things - not because I don't still think it's a good idea, but because I'd quite like to get this done before the next millenium. It'd be nice to have even started before this time next year, quite frankly...

Oh, and small but significant progress vis-a-vis the Cage Of Doom - the lad has unwillingly set foot in it for a couple of minutes before exploding out of the door and into my face in a flurry of wings and scattered feathers. What with that and the firm attempts, by means of beak on flesh (my flesh, his beak), to get himself as far away as possible when I try and get him to go a bit closer to it, I'm not so sure this isn't turning out more painful to me than him.

Thursday, November 09, 2006

Chips with everything...

... or to Cap It All.

I've been musing on the Cap Iron/Chip Breaker question just recently. It's cropped up not only on UK Workshop but also recently on the Old Tools List, notably from the Never-Wronged Rev Ron, better known to the world as Ron Hock of aftermarket blade fame. His understanding of the purpose, and one I believe also, is as follows:

"...that the part formerly known as "chip-breaker" probably isn't breaking any chips but that doesn't mean that it's not doing anything in this system. It's adding significant rigidity to that springy bevel right down close to the cutting edge."

Now this is in Bailey planes, so don't come running with arguments based on woodies or infills or the legendary planes of the gods or nuffink, 'cos I'll just say "it's not a Bailey pattern" and laugh in your face. Yes, I will. So there.

Anyway, when I first came across the term "chip breaker", I was nonplussed. Well to be honest I thought it was just another example of the 'Murrican habit of giving things all the wrong names like "trunk", "faucet" and "rabbet" instead of "boot", "tap" and "rebate". Not that we love y'all any the less for these charming peccadilloes, but we do chuckle to ourselves and wonder when you're going to start learning English again... Hah, and just looking at "nonplussed" in the dictionary I see in North America it means exactly the opposite to what the rest of us mean - there you go again, you see? But where was I...? Oh, yeah, chip breaker. Chip? I mean c'mon, the plane famous for making chips is the scrub*, and that doesn't have a cap iron... Numerous folks better able to come over all scientific than I have demonstrated that as far as breaking shavings goes, it does no such thing.

But no matter, sez I to myself, 'cos here I am safe and sound in that backwater of guilt and apology-for-Empire called Merrie Olde England where a biscuit's a biscuit and not a cookie and a cap iron it shall be. But no, creeping insidiously into British woodworking is the dreaded "chip breaker", often from respected authors who, frankly, ought to know better. Now I'm not saying "cap iron" is the peak of semantic gorgeousness, 'cos frankly it could be describing a hot metal plate for flattening headgear in the North of England, but it has deep roots here and does not pretend that the darn thing does any kind of breaking of chips.

So with gladsome cry do I read Mr Hock's post and others in the thread rounding upon the term "chip breaker", grinding it in the dust beneath their boots and proclaiming the term "cap iron". And many of them of the 'Murrican persuasion too. Now take the hint; are we not on a current wave of handtool-using enthusiasm? We are. And who got there first; were, in fact, in the vanguard of promoting same? Why the Old Tools List. Spot the trend? Yep, if the "in" crowd are coming round to calling it a cap iron it's just a matter of time...

I now await the deluge of disagreement and possibly affronted Nationalistic pride that'll no doubt flood into the comments box. Hey, feel free. At least it gives you something to think about and leaves only one more blog entry tomorrow to keep my promise, which may or may not be the real point of this whole post...

*Or maybe the Record Spudmatic 1000, a short-lived plane from the late 1950s found in some fish & chip** establishments...

** Another example; "chips" equals "fries". Unfortunately it completely kills the joke, doesn't it?

Wednesday, November 08, 2006

Terrible Twos

Yep, it's 2 years, 731 days, 17,536 hours (give or take), over 21,374 visits and 309 posts on and amazingly this Blog is still going. When I started this woodworking blogs were thin on the ground, nowadays everyone's doing it with added audio and visual in some cases - some even restrict themselves to woodworking content... Fear not, I have zero intention of inflicting podcast or vlog upon the long-suffering reader; as you may have noticed I'm hard-pressed enough to get any woodworking on here at all. Anyway, many thanks to the readership without whom I'd be talking to myself, not that that'd stop me...

And to celebrate I have Good News. After many years of begging and pleading any and everybody for same, a noble Australian has at last come to my rescue and provided a scan of a 1966 (guessing from the code at the bottom) Record 043/044 manual. Huzzah! It's a little the worst for wear, so I'm doing some painstaking work in cleaning it up and trying to make it legible, even to the point of retyping text and replacing essential lines on the diagrams. Not by any means done yet, but I've put up the progress so far (412KB) for anyone else like me who's been long waiting to see this elusive manuscript.

All right, don't all rush at once...

Next task, a page on the Record 044 along the same lines as the 040/043 page. Hey, another couple of centuries at this pace and we'll have a Record Blood & Gore...

Edit: Finished the manual - at least I hope so, unless folks say they can't read it... Down to a miserly 348KB what's more.

Tuesday, November 07, 2006

Drawer diversion

Surprisingly enough I have managed to get a teeny thing or two done in the workshop - you know the sort. The oddments that take a disproportionate amount of time to do for the size of task and yet once they're done you wonder why you didn't get on and do it earlier 'cos it's such an improvement. One such was turning two shallow drawers into one deep one able to take "some" of the bench planes on their soles and convenient to seize up and use (hollow laughter is permitted here). Previously they'd been on their sides and inconvenient. Actually that's not strictly true; previously they'd been in the tool chest but I couldn't get into the tool chest at the moment even if I wanted to there's so much gubbins heaped on top.



T'was but the work of several hours to remove one drawer and cunningly attach its false front on top of the remaining one to preserve the illusion of equally-sized drawers. It'll be fine as long as I don't try to open the drawer by the top, "false" handles too often - it's a fairly heavy load in there.

That left me with a spare drawer box and set of runners, but as I was cobbling together the original and discarded base from the Old Man's workbench and some ply to make a bit of bench top, it wasn't too appallingly difficult to fit the drawer to it while I was at it, and thus made some very welcome additional storage space. Nope, it's not by any stretch of the imagination pretty, but it is solid and didn't cost me a bean, so heck, I can live with ugly.



Not costing a bean was an important factor - as is so often the case when you've just spent a sum of money (cage), other things started falling apart in all directions such as the DVD recorder and other items of Expense. Naturally this also tends to happen in the run-up to Christmas rather than, say, July when the demands on the budget are much lessened. Damn you Murphy and your Law... One consolation is at least there's no Axminster Show this year so I'm not looking down the barrel of a show with no funds to furnish the party bag with goodies.

Meanwhile the cage still glowers in the corner:



And Bertie still waggles his wings in concern in his old cage:



He's greatly enjoying pomegranates at the moment (one look at the state of his perches would tell you that; the juce goes everywhere), so perhaps enough slices of same in the new cage will lessen his horror. I've also got in another new example of his favourite type of toy with similar bribery in mind. Nevertheless, I forsee a long and protracted propaganda campaign will be required before feathered foot steps willingly into powder-coated Cage of Doom. Oh well, early days yet...

Monday, November 06, 2006

Sing like birds i' the cage

Methinks The Reader will be thinking I've forgotten him. 'Tis not so, just seems that way. I mean really, do we want this Blog to turn into the virtual equivalent of the old lady in the doctor's waiting room who buttonholes you and starts listing all her ailments and medical predicaments? No, I thought not. So just assume workshop time is - again - curtailed. Dammit.

On the plus side, we now Have Parrot Cage. Unfortunately not the colour we waited three weeks for - nope, turns out one didn't turn up with the supplier's last order and it'd be another 5 weeks. Grrrr. Well as 3 weeks guaranteed nothing there was no reason to suppose an 8 week wait would be any better, and perhaps the colour that was available would be unavailable by then, so on the principle that a cage in the hand... So it sits there, dark and menacing, while Bertie does his best "I'm a poor little fledgling, save me" wing-waggling routine in sheer horror. Jolly good fun putting one of these darn things together; if you were brought up on Meccano. I wasn't. Took the best part of a day, what with having to clean it all first in case of evil anti-parrot germs thereon - yea, even unto the very nuts and bolts. The things I do for these birds...

Anyway, I shall try and actually keep the resolution I made this time last week, and blog faithfully the Whole Week. After all, it's our second anniversary on Wednesday; please supply your own party hats. With luck I won't be in quite such Bardish mood by tomorrow, so that's something to look forward to at least...

Wednesday, November 01, 2006

Spooky

All Hallow's Eve and an eldritch screech rends the air...

... yes, the screaming file is a sure sign that the saw's marginally too high in the vice again.



Trick or Treat? Hah, demanding chocolate with menaces more like. I've no objection to the idea in North America where it belongs, but over here it turns me into a first class Hallowe'en Scrooge. Luckily I didn't see one little darling with a plastic pumpkin-shaped bucket begging for sweets or I wouldn't have been responsible for the outcome. At the very least extensive questioning over how much pocket money they got and a short quiz on the origins of the occasion before they got the trick... Hrumph; we used to have a turnip with a nightlight in it and go in for bobbing apples in my day. And if you got the apple without the worm in it you were jolly grateful.

Bah, humbug. And no, they're my humbugs and you're not getting any.

Oh yeah, now the joy of fireworks for a week. Someone started up at midnight, for Fawkes sake...