Scrub that

Well that's the Scrub Plane review up. I can't say that I like it when I find myself less than thrilled with a tool; it's very hard to get the balance right to convey why I don't like it, while still making it clear it works just fine and dandy and it's just my opinion. Previously I've failed dismally, but I hope I've struck the right balance this time. It's a trifle awkward though - I'd have liked to let LV know it was up, but R is away until later this week, and the chap who wrote a charming explanatory letter that came in the parcel neglected to inclued his email address. I hope they'll understand, both my apparent lack of civility and the fact I don't much like the plane. Oh well. If I start down the path of not telling it as I find it, then my reviews are pretty worthless so I might as well not bother at all. There's a thread on WoodCentral that goes into the rights and wrongs of reviews, particularly ones of products sent to reviewers before general release, brought on by D's early review/thoughts on the honing guide. Certainly it does bother me a little. Not so much because I don't think I can remain unbiased, but more because I like to write a review such as I believe anyone buying the tool would write. This is like this, this is like that, my opinion is, and so forth. Not having the whole package disrupts that a little, as well as putting me in the position of writing for two very different types of reader - the woodworker in the street, and the R&D department of Veritas. And heaven knows, I'm in no position to give a technical opinion on anything...

Tree hugging

I found myself in the garden this evening. A gentle breeze, sunshine, cats lazing about enjoying the unaccustomed company and so forth. Gosh, how I do like the month of May. As is my wont on such occasions, I went to enjoy the beauties of "my" Eucalyptus. I bought it in February 1998; a 2' high (maybe not even that) little example of eucalyptus pavifolia. It's now about 20' high? With a trunk easily 12" across. I can swing off one of its branches and it barely sags, and I'm what my mum euphemistically calls "well built". Last year I was thinking the same branch would make good propulsion for a pole lathe, but now it's far too sturdy for such a task. Does its rapid rate of growth bother me? Nope; it seems to have hit the subsoil and it ain't getting any higher, which is the one worry I had. But it gives me a tremendous buzz to see "my" tree. And it really is a tree. You could just about plank the trunk now, if you cut it down. It casts a serious, but dappled, shadow across the grass. Under its protection pulmonarias, azeleas, and herbacious geraniums flourish. Sparrows, various tits, robins, blackbirds and goldfinches alight on its branches. Great chunks of bark have peeled from it, which looks beautiful and provides raw material for my mum's flower arangements. The parrots have played with some prunings from it. I feel like it's really contributed to the world. And one day, when the time is right, I hope it'll live on as something joined or turned. I planted a tree, and it grew and grew, and I'm more chuffed about it than I could ever have imagined. Maybe you can tell? :~)

Earlier this year my folks made a contribution to the Royal Society of Arts woodland planting scheme. It's to celebrate some anniversary or something. Anyway, they "bought" five trees; one for each of their descendants. Me, my two brothers and my two nephews. Just imagine if all those five could achieve even half what my one, albeit alien, tree has done. Marvellous. I just hope they'll be allowed to cut them down for timber before they rot, when the time comes...

On a similar theme, if I remember correctly, some patriotic citizen or other (maybe more than one) went round with a pocketful of acorns and whenever he saw a likely spot, he planted one. The idea was to provide the raw materials for the "Hearts of Oak" to defend the nation in the future, long before the idea of steel ship hulls was thought of. What a forward-thinking fellow. I seem to recall somewhere reading that someone planted coppices all over the place to represent the postitions of the fleet at Trafalgar too, but I've never been able to track down the reference again. I believe there's a move to plant a host of oaks to commorate the bicentennial of Trafalgar this year. All I ask is that the lucky future generations are allowed to reap the rewards of mature timber, and not doomed to see them rot where they stand in the name of conservation. Trees can live forever, as long as you don't want them to live forever as trees.

It's That Man Again

Ah yes, the hedgerows are all a'bloom with bluebells, campion, buttercups, that white fluffy stuff I can never remember the name of, and other wild flowery things, so it must be that time of year again. The UPS man has cometh, bearing review fodder from the Colonies. Before they've hit the website/catalogue. Cooo, fancy, eh? Just a little daunting too. The items in question are both rather on the boundaries of where I feel comfortable in my knowledge, so already I feel the "I'm just a simple woodworker" review defence coming on... ;~)

A bone it its mouth...

The shave; 'tis done. Read all about it if you want to. Wish I hadn't made such a mess of shaping one of the handles though. Heigh ho. That's what comes of rushing it. IIRC, the phrase "a bone in her mouth" refers to the white bow wave of a sailing ship going at full tilt in a good wind. Let's hope this'll go full tilt through any shaving tasks I chuck at it, eh?

Now I suppose the cherry beckons again. Picking out the nicest boards for the table tops and jointing them up. Actually a job I rather enjoy, so no hardship there. It's the final stock dimensioning first that I don't relish... and I really must finish the working drawings! =8~O