Secret Santa part the second

Now as it happens the recipient of my gift doesn't seem to have put two and two together, so really I should probably continue to remain secret. But what the hell. Besides I want to add it to the previous kit experiences on the website at some point.

Anyway, one Veritas Small Spokeshave Kit, rendered (not necessarily as well as I'd have liked) in dalbergia latifolia, aka Sonokeling Rosewood. Finished with oil and wax.

And let me tell you, the smaller size makes it that much more finicky a task. It doesn't seem much of a difference on paper, but it just ups the ante enough to make life a tad testing. Does make for a handy small shave mind you, but I wouldn't recommend it for your first try. For some reason none of the UK stockists seem to carry it anyway, which is a shame. But maybe just as well as I won't be tempted to do it again...

Although rosewood will probably not be my first choice - I seem to have developed some sensitivity to it, which is a major pain in the arse. Still it solves one "Shall I?" that's been fluttering about my brain for a few years now - I never will get round to swapping all the bubinga on the Veritas planes to rosewood.

So that's that for another rather sparse year of blogging. Must Do Better. May 2010 bring you more joys than sorrows, may your workshop be warm enough in the winter and cool enough in the summer, your edges sharp, your timber well-behaved, and your joints tight. Happy New Year! :)

Secret Santa part one

Or how it isn't always better to give than to receive...

This gorgeous hand screw/Jorgensen-a-like-but-better was under the tree from my UK Workshop forum Secret Santa. Jaws are 6 1/4" long. I've got it next to me here at the 'puter and keep stopping to play with it. Lubbly jubbly. Only downside is this is really starting to tip the number of tools I have which are far too good for the workshop into the danger zone. Either I need a posher w'shop - or a display cabinet... ;)

Compliments of the Season

Just a brief stop in to wish the reader a Happy Winter-festival-of-their-choice.

Oh, and the mystery item; couple of good guesses, but it's actually to keep track of whether the cats (Lucy and Carrie) are in the house or out in the garden. With all the cold weather, Lucy in particular has been in and out more times that the little people in one of those weather houses. After the umpteenth time calling for her outside only to find her curled up on someone's bed, well action was required.

All we need to do now is train them to push the markers across... ;)

Pro-pet Production

Yes, I know; been a bit of a hiatus. Again. My apologies. It's not even as if I've not been in the workshop; I have but principally on the aforementioned Secret Santa thingie which remains under wraps. And the other stuff has been largely parrot-related.

New ladder for PJ for instance. A tour de force in its field, I don't doubt, but not exactly great woodwork. Alas I only had softwood dowel about my person for the rungs, so he's already crunching his way through those. Actually there's been a fairly spirited attempt on the beech uprights too... Then there was drilling holes through about 50 blocks of cardboard so that, they too, can be torn to shreds. Oh, and my own DIY version of the Buddy Perch - yours for thirty smackeroonies *gasp*, or in my case, about tuppence ha'penny using old cage bits and pieces and a natty dowel screw/threaded insert combo. And a few hundred quid's worth of tools. (Is it me, or is that a flaw in the money-saving aspect...?) Amazingly it does actually work - eventually, when the suspicion of something new was overcome - and I can now get PJ to where I want him to be without risking losing a finger. Yippee!

The closest I've got to even slightly proper woodwork is this little gizmo - I got to use a #044 and everything. Sigh. But even that was such a rush job it's a long way from beautiful. If I find a moment, it'd be nice to replace the knobs with something turned instead, f'rinstance. Maybe something fancier than those bits of dowel too... But it is functional. The question is what function? I'll leave you to ponder on that one...

Clutter

As I labour on semi-successfully in the vineyard (aka The Workshop) I briefly dallied with the idea of maybe cleaning up the god-awful mess on the workbench to make things run a tad smoother. A little more production, a little less "Where's the blank-blank-blankety-blank chisel gone now? I only put it down a moment ago" if you will. Then I remembered I was going to need some brass and thought it just as well I hadn't tidied up.

After all, where there's muck there's brass...

I know, terrible innit? That's why this blog is called musings from the workbench, and not profound thoughts. Arguably it should be changed to musings & terrible puns from the workbench... Actually it's not the mess on the bench that's the problem, it's remembering where I keep things. The less-than-unified method of tool storage employed by yours truly is coming back to bite me in a big way just now. Yesterday I spent ten minutes trying to remember where the hell I kept my screwdrivers. Still haven't the faintest idea; had to resort to fetching one from the house. Oh deary me.

Workshop Miscalculation

So I bethought me to sign up for the UK Workshop forum Hand Tool Secret Santa, right? 'Cos a deadline by which I'd have had to get in the workshop and make something can be nothing but a Good Thing, right? And it's worked; I've made shavings. And firewood and lots of mistakes... But I made one miscalculation, didn't I? By the nature of the thing I can't blog about what I'm doing. D'oh.

Actually maybe it's just as well. The woodworking gods are taking revenge on me for my neglect with one damn thing after another. The most annoying being that I managed to walk right into the protruding metal angles that the bandsaw fence run on. Result; a deep and painful bruise on my arm which is slowing me up even more. Heigh ho.

Meanwhile the UPS man has called with a pre-production example of the Veritas Skew Block plane. This is an unusual case in that the existence and appearance of this plane is out in the public domain already, so just for once I can say what I'm getting to play with - er, rigourously test. Unfortunately I still have to remember not to say what I think about it! Grrr. Should be an interesting weekend though...

Handy Tool

Is it me, or are Veritas tools getting smaller and smaller? It's either that or I've eaten the wrong side of the mushroom again...

Yes, it really works, honest. Even the adjuster. Click on the thumbnails for a larger pic.

Postal strike

Do I speak of the Royal Mail's approaching industrial action? I do not. Nope, I pun. Viz: I have posted on UK Workshop again. All for the entirely selfish reason of trying to prompt the woodworking juices to flow once more, and ya know, it may already be starting to work. Shhh, now - don't frighten it away...

Run, Forrest, Run

Speed is a funny thing, isn't it? It's all relative, as one genealogist said to another. You can be barrelling along the motorway at a happy 70mph and not feel like it's very fast at all, but come off the slip road without breaking quite sufficiently, and you'll know all about it.

I've been much taxed by speed, or lack of it, with my broadband connection of late. It was crawling along at not quite twice the speed of dial-up at one point; not good. I finally had enough when it crawled to slightly less than twice the speed of dial-up, threw away any pretence at having anything else to do, tackled my ISP customer service and things have been done. As a result currently I rejoice in a speed of 1.8Mb - at least ten times faster than any speed I've enjoyed on this connection ever before. It's absolute surfing heaven. However, as I roamed across the face of the interweb in search of advice and information on the matter, I kept reading irate posts on fora from people bemoaning the lousy 4Mb speed (for example) they were suffering from. See? All relative.

I've noticed the same thing with hand tools. The power tool user will tend to feel someone's telling porkies if they describe such-and-such a hand tool as "fast"? Take forming a rebate. How can it possibly be as fast a router and a suitable bit? Putting aside set-up time, chances are it isn't, especially if you have a lot of them to do. But beating the power tool isn't what makes a hand tool feel fast; in some respects it's the fact it can do it at all. For the amount of input and functional simplicity, the output of a well set-up hand tool is breathtakingly fast. It's all relative.

And sometimes it really is faster than than the powered alternative too. Don't you love it when that happens...? ;)

Square-eyed woodworker

A reader in the Great White North has recently decided to test the following hypothesis: "Combine the correct proportions of nagging, flattery, guilt and out-right asking and you can make Alf write another blog entry". And has apparently proved it. I'm very easily manipulated, dammit.

So, um...

Yes.

Er. We've been having some nice weather, eh? Well down here we have anyway. Trees have been growing and so forth. (That's your woodworking reference there. Mark it, dear reader, it will likely be all alone)

Actually, no it won't. I have actually been making an effort to try and think more like a woodworker and less like not-a-woodworker, and it may be sort of (wood)working. Yes, so wandering round the fora and seeing the same old arguments (Bevel Up vs. Bevel Down; Are LN/Veritas worth the money?; I've found the ultimate sharpening guide/stone/regime) has been a little depressing, it's true. 'Specially when it's the same faces with the same arguments and everyone could save a lot of breath if they had a clue how to do a decent Google search, however, it may have had some bearing on my starting to notice Tools On Television again.

Come on, you know how this one works. You're supposed to be watching Costume Drama X, but can't help noticing Random Carpenter Y in the background who's doing murderous things to a green log with a wooden try plane - backwards. Or some poor chap's just been put up against a fir tree and shot by The Evil Nazi, but you can't help pointing out to your eye-rolling friend that the saw that's about to be used to cut the tree down is all wrong and will clog up with sap within three strokes.

It's not just me, is it...?

Anyway, Exhibit A: Seen in the background of Archchancellor Weatherwax's room in The Colour of Magic on Sky telly the other weekend. (And no, Discworld fans, I haven't watched it all, but what I did see was... underwhelming. The opening extract from Pterry's new work is very promising though. I'm counting the days until publication.)

Pretty standard commercial tool cabinet, methinks? Nice back saw though; cabinet screwdriver; coupla pairs of pincers; assorted chisels.

Then I was watching The Victorian Farm the other night - somewhat behind the times, but somehow I completely overlooked it on first broadcast - and was intrigued by what I can only describe as a rolling wedge employed by a basketmaker in combination with his froe. Now green woodworking has never really been my forte, but I can't honestly recall seeing such a cunning device before. No doubt, if it's well-known, someone will inform me...

Froe was started in the usual way, as you see, then the wedge - rather like a dumbbell in shape - was inserted.

Then as the froe was worked down the split, the effects of gravity just let the "wedge" roll on down, keeping the split open.

A close-up. Clever, no? Well it was news to me anyway, and I thought it was most ingenious.

Anyway, there you have it - A genuine woodworking blog entry. Now I must away and try to recall what I was going to say on the website about the Record 044c, now someone has kindly provided me with photographs of same. You won't believe this, but I actually had to go and check that "044c" was the correct model number. Oh, the shame...

Who's That Masked One-Time Woodworker?

An ear-scraping screech as the neglected door to the blog is forced open. Light floods in and dust rises to dance in the unaccustomed sunshine. A lone, unfamiliar figure peers round the door.

Hello? Anyone there? Tsk, look at the state of this place. Where's the "To do" list? One, oil hinges; two, get JCB to help move the dust.

Yes, I still aten't dead, despite appearances. Life and Other Surprises still leaves me in woodworking limbo. Bad enough, but I also have copious apologies to tender to all the people who've emailed over the past few months with queries and such, all of which I've singularly failed to answer. It's not laziness, honest. Well, not just laziness. My brain seems currently incapable of dealing with the technical sorts of things that folks tend to ask. So ten thousand apologies if you're one of the Ignored. It's really nothing personal and I should have at least responded in some form or another, you're right.

Anyway, what can I tell you? The woodworking thing is still there, lurking in what passes for my mind, but not actually managing to force its way to the forefront. Haven't read so much as a catalogue page in months so couldn't tell you the latest trends in woodworking to save my life. As such, I think you'll have to consider this blog on indefinite hiatus (if you haven't already).

Real Life moseys on, in case you were wondering. Alf Towers now rings to the cries of "No!" as our newest inmate, Lucy the kitten, tears the furniture to shreds, so we're kept on our toes. In fact, I think I'll leave you in her tender paws...

These Foolish Things

A rebate plane that bears a shaving's traces, a firmer chisel from romantic places (Sheffield), these foolish things remind me of when I used to be a woodworker.

However, the fact is I'm just not a woodworker at the moment, and keeping the trappings of same is increasingly pointless. So I shall be gradually dismantling my woodworking life over this summer, including the Cornish Workshop website. It's due up for renewal in July, so here's an early heads-up for the blog reader - if you want to grab any of the information for your own personal use then you have until then. An announcement on the site itself will follow in due course.

If you want further details of the giant tool sale that'll also follow, go here.

ETA: Yes, it was an April Fool's - although so close to the truth as to be seriously considered more than once in recent weeks. On the whole Lee Valley's was much better, but then they have had more practice...

What d'you mean "plot"? Number two

This is just a guess, and I may be wrong, but have you been neglecting your interest in 19thC rural poverty and the birth of the trade union movement? You have, haven't you? You may well hang your head in shame. I, however, have not. Well I have sort of, 'cos this particular film is long and largely miserable and my attention wanders, but some of the pretty pictures caught the attention of my butterfly mind. Amongst them, the carpenter's workshop. And being as how I'm nice like that, and also owing to a complete lack of my own endeavours to blog about, I thought I'd share:

Not sure, but is that a bookbinder's press in the tool well there? Interesting hammer head too.

The bow saw appears to be tensioned with thick rope, which is slightly bizarre. 

Anyway, have fun picking it over. I did.

All aboard

I dunno; you wait years and then two come along at once. And I know what you're thinking; blog entries. Hah! You should be so lucky... 

Amongst the very earliest pages I visited in my interweb life was Blood & Gore, Patrick Leach's amazing, biased but entertaining resource of information on Stanley planes. Virtually the whole of my interweb existence subsequently has been spent wishing there was something remotely similar for the pride (once upon a time) of Sheffield; C & J Hampton. Better known to all of us as Record Tools. Well now there is. Are. Two of them. Neither, it appears, Made in England - which is all too ironically apt.

David Lynch (Esq), now domiciled Down Under, brings us Record Hand Planes, A History at www.recordhandplanes.com. Not only does he have an extensive collection of his own, but has also got permission to use Leslie Harrison's introduction from the No.15 catalogue reprint. Includes a detailed, illustrated guide to identifying the age of of Record planes that's worth the price of admission alone.

www.record-planes.com is rather less obviously owned by anyone, but I think possibly draws upon Mr Harrison's introduction as well. Perhaps closer to Blood & Gore in terms of detail of individual models. Also includes a guide to value, in dollars. US, I assume, but it doesn't actually say.

Both worth having in your bookmarks; both to be congratulated on taking on such an enormous task. And that's me with one less "to do" on my list ;)

And before I go, if you've been waiting for any words on the Veritas beader, can I point you in the direction of Paul Chapman's review. Incidentally, his closing point about the fence is one I've complained about myself. I'm also not wildly enthusiastic about moving the blade rather than the fence; there's really no straightforward way to ensure the blade is where you want it to be and will stay there while you tighten up the clamp. Assume my usual moan about the handles; I really haven't warmed to the configuration at all. To be honest I was monumentally underwhelmed by the whole thing. I like scratchstocks and beaders, I really do, but I would say it's overkill for the majority of us; personally I found it easier to use a homemade scratchstock on straight stock. However, if you're expecting to bead internal curves, it might well make life easier. I don't, and as such its joys totally passed me by. I expect they'll sell them by the bucket load ;)

What d'you mean "plot"?

Yes, I've been guilty of getting distracted from the raison d'etre of watching a DVD by something in the background again. This time it's a rather effective waney-edged board as a bed head. The trouble is I find myself plagued by wanting to identify the wood, 'cos I feel like I should know. Never a skill I possess at the best of times, it must be said, but from a shot from a 64th-hand copy of an old telly drama? Nevertheless, in the hopes that one of your geniuses will know the answer, see what you make of it:

And the first person to say they'll make a coffee table of it gets a well-deserved groan...

And when did you last see your father?

Okay, so I haven't rediscovered the knack of regular blog updating...

But for the terminally bored, the skirting in place.

You may notice that the knot problem has been avoided by the simple practice by the old man of only replacing about a foot length. Sigh. I thought he'd at least take it back to the first join - it's only about another foot further on. Which is precisely why I washed my hands of the thing as soon as I'd handed it over.

Our differences in working practice came to the fore over the weekend as well. A small matter of putting a wee sheet of acrylic over the inside of a door to try and up the insulation a bit. I like to prepare the tools needed ahead of time, and try and get the right tool for the job. If necessary I'l stop and go and get the right tool for the job.

He doesn't.

He likes to "crack on" and add an extra level of frustration and likelihood of botch by using whatever's handiest. Thus he insisted on trying to cut the mitres in some plastic trim with a Junior hacksaw. Not in itself a crime, but the bluntness of the blade was murderous. Which naturally resulted in the roughest mitres you can imagine, which he then wanted to trim with his penknife. By the time I'd gone to go and get some files as more suitable for the task, he'd already made a dog's breakfast of most of the joints.

Did he have the correct drill bit ready for the brass screws? He did not. Another trip to the workshop for yours truly. Came back - you did line up some steel screws of the same size to pre-cut the threads, didn't you? No. Back I go to the workshop. And so on. And his concept of a screwdriver that fits the slot is laughable. And it's not as though I haven't personally bought him more than one set of new, smart screwdrivers in every conceivable size. It's enough to make you scream.

Eventually I shooed him away and finished the job myself, 'cos it was less stressful. I love my dad, really I do, but please, please, don't make me have to work with him...

The Knack

I can't help but fear this'll be something of an anti-climax. However...

As you can see, it wasn't exactly a complex moulding, which is probably just as well. But on the debit side, it wasn't exactly a lovely example to work from either... Anyway, being somewhat out of practice in thinking about photographs and such, you're lucky you even got one at this early stage.

As you can see, I used a combination of plough and rebate planes to rough away the bulk - and then got carried away starting to do a bit more shaping before I remembered to take a pic. The extra V-shaped groovelets were courtesy of a rebate plane that wasn't quite as shipshape as I'd hoped, so I switched to the 19mm Purpleheart shoulder plane that Phil Edwards gave me back in 2006 and that was much better. Yes, yes, I dare say for the benefit of posterity I should be keeping the thing in a sealed environment as an early "Philly Plane" but it's too nice not to use. And quite honestly its lower profile suits my size of hand better than a traditional wooden rebate.

As you may observe, the opportunity to justify a wide range of planes was enthusiastically embraced. I may be out of practice in many respects, but some things just come naturally.  I did briefly toy with breaking out the Veritas Skew Rebates, but dealing with unfamiliar tools as well as an unfamiliar task was one ask too many, so they still await their debut. And a review, I know. Mea culpa...

It turned out the smaller round was superfluous, but the non-pair pair of No.6s were ideal. I say non-pair 'cos while one is clearly stamped with a Greenslade mark, the other is silent. I have a feeling they both might have come from the same place, but then again...

Well I'd love to report drama, but the careful selection of the board to provide almost perfect straight grain had the desired effect, and it was painless in the extreme. Some minimal cleaning up with abrasives, and I was able to hand it over to the Old Man with some relief. He's now in the throes of butchering it to his requirements, so I'm just not going to look.

So the workshop floor is once more bedecked with curly shavings (various) and for a brief moment the bench top is once again visible. Has it re-infected me? Not sure. Maybe, but I'd sooner not jinx it... It has revealed a few useful things though; not all of them new, it has to be said: 

a) Having a wide range of tools from which to choose does pay off. So there.

b) Having a wide range of tools from which to choose would be even better if they were all ready to use - as if I didn't know that.

c) I'd be lost without a tail vice and every penny spent on the workbench was worth it. This job would have been hell if the board wasn't held firm and rock steady.

d) Things go more quickly and smoothly when you really know your tools, which arguably partially negates point "a". Shhhh, if you don't tell I won't...

e) Things go more slowly when you have to stop and remember where you keep such commonly used tools as rules and squares because 

i) It's been so long since you did any woodworking you've forgotten where you keep them, and 

ii) You still haven't sorted out a systematic and unified tool storage system yet.

And last but certainly not least, and I thank the gods for it:

f) I haven't totally lost the knack.

If anyone wants me, I'll be the one doing the dance of relieved jubilation about that last one.

Skirting the issue

Now there's a punning title that mightn't work for those who read in 'Murricanese... Erm, 'Back to Baseboardics'? Yes, er, let's move on then...

For some reason the Old Man has come out in a terrible rash of home improvement. Small irritations we've been happily living with for years have suddenly vaulted to the top of the To Do List and he's been ripping things out, filling holes, painting walls, and oiling wooden window sills like it's going out of fashion. Indeed, the closest I'm come to woodworking is when I offered to do some of the aforementioned window sill oiling. It's also the closest I get to house maintenance; it's really Not My Thing. 

Anyway, one of the things he's ripped out is a small section of skirting board near the front door. Only to discover - as feared - that it was as rotten as a corrupt politician and replacement was required. Imagine my joy as that highlight of the week, grocery shopping, had added to it the further delight of bearding the denizens of 'Jewsons', builder's merchants, in their emporium in the search for matching skirting. Jovial senior Jewsonian, with whom we're long acquainted, was convinced they had the very thing and despatched us to the Outcast in the timber shed. The Outcast looked cold and fed-up, but applied himself and offered up the 'matching' boards. Which didn't. Match, that is. We sucked our teeth. The penalty of the old house, and thus the more subtle mouldings sometimes employed therein, is that the limited off-the-shelf range offered now seldom fits the bill. 

For some reason, the old war horse (me) scented battle. I heard myself saying "In that case we'll need a not-too-knotty board of the right size and we'll have to make our own. We have the technology."

Sometimes I really wish I'd just keep my big mouth shut...

Yes, Houston, we have woodworking. Or rather, I have to do woodworking. I mean I might have said "we" but it was always going to be me doing it, wasn't it?

So we selected the marginally least knotty six feet of 7" stuff and paid a sum for it that must put the price per cubic foot somewhere close to oak. I tried very hard not to wince as the Outcast used the rustiest, bluntest hardpoint saw to "cut" the required length. I say "cut" 'cos I'm convinced he used sheer determination to convince the board to part at that point. No way that saw did anything.

Anyway, before even getting onto the technical part of sticking the moulding, I had to run the board through the P/T to reduce the thickness, then follow up with the Stanley #5 1⁄2 to clean up the resultant mess. That's the proper 2 1⁄4" wide iron, old model and I do love it so. I'd forgotten. Oh, if only T L-N had elected to make his the original size. Sigh. But where was I...? Oh yeah, and I had to clean up and sharpen a few likely hollow and rounds as well. As long-term readers are aware - I have one or two from which to choose...

Once again I was witness to that intriguing phenomenon where any seldom-used plane apparently gets blunt between being put away and taken out for use again. It's not that the piskies come out at night and work up a few feet of mouldings for the architrave in their new semi-detached toadstool; it's simply one's idea of "sharp' alters in the intervening time. I was pleased that my ability to achieve my current idea of "sharp" hadn't entirely deserted me during the last year so I was able to get them at least usable. They need some more work to really sing though, but hands up anyone who actually relishes sharpening shaped cutters? Anyone? In that case I'll send them all to you and you can do them. ;)

So there I was; planes sharp (had a couple of Record ploughs lined up too - #043 and #044), board ready, bench top re-discovered, all set to put theoretical knowledge to practical purpose. Yes, kids, I know how it goes, but I've never actually had to do this before for real. Shocking, innit? Must admit, for preference, I'd have sooner broken my duck on the matter when I was in practice, rather than coming out of a year-long hiatus. But nothing ventured...

And you can find out how it went later in the week.

What? You didn't think I was going to use up all my woodworking on one blog entry, did you? ;)

You know your woodworking mojo is in trouble when...

...after a year of no real woodworking, you're still not motivated to do something about it. Except by guilt.

...woodworking emails can go for actual weeks before getting answered (and I'm really, really sorry if you're on the wrong end of that one).

...most seriously of all, you've suspended mail from the Old Tools List and haven't read it all for the first time in nearly eight years.

Last year I felt I was getting rather out of the loop. So far in 2009 I'm straining to see whereabouts the loop is. Something, somewhere, has got to click at some point and normal service will be resumed, but the waiting for it is really getting me down. 

Heigh ho.

Ferrous oxide reprise

Mea culpa - I promised this update back in October. Imagine my horror etc etc...

Back in September I managed to creep out undetected to the workshop for five minutes; just long enough to discover my Ashley Iles round back chisels had succumbed to the dreaded rust. 'Tis all explained here. Well I had my little rant but took it as par for the course that these things happen and thought no more about it. I reckoned without some exemplary customer service from Matthew at Workshop Heaven. Evidently he was tipped off to my grumbles and offered to take the chisels back, refinish the backs, replace the tool roll (or refund) and pay for all the postage costs.

You simply cannot complain about that at all. 

I didn't actually take up his generous offer 'cos the hassle of parcelling them up and so forth just seemed one headache too many at the time, but truly, this is a case where it's the thought that counts. Take a well-deserved (and overdue!) bow, sir.

Anyway, he also included some info from the manufacturer about it. Now they seem to be taking the issue seriously and considering either changing the tanning process or applying some sort of anti-rust product to the finished product (the latter strikes me as putting sticking plaster on birthmark quite honestly, but whatever...), but they also make the argument that the number of complaints is tiny compared to how many articles sold over the years. Matthew made the very valid point that there could easily be lots of people (like me) who never officially make a complaint about it, or it never gets passed up the distribution chain. It's a useful reminder; complaining isn't actually always a negative thing.

Strings attached

Well Happy New Year woodworking folk! My only resolution was not to make any - thus breaking it by its very existence. Might as well get it over and done with, eh?

Whilst idly looking for something else, I ran across this photo from 1925:

Quote: Mr Glenister, who runs a tobacconist shop but makes violins as a hobby, at work on a violin.

Have fun playing 'spot the tool'. Nice shot of a means to counteract the racking in a front vice too. Shop-bought workbench I wondered? Anyway, makes a change to see a pic of an acknowledged amateur I thought, although it looks as staged as any other. Except perhaps the clutter on the bench top is all too genuine...