update

As I wait for my primrose to blossom (and by the way there's a video but it's well beyond the capacity of both the blog server and my abilities as a videographer) I'm reminded of why I work wood by hand.

 It's the dedication, the patience, the knowing that is will all work out in the end, whenever that might be.

And just like the primrose it seems to happen all of a sudden after weeks of wait and toil or months in the case of wood working, years sometimes in gardening.

It's been over a month since my last update and that's OK by me, a lot of the work had been simply redundant, photos you've already seen directions you've already ignored. It is after all, a mirror image of the left side.

Some aspects, however, have been groundbreaking

how to cut the big bevel along the front

devising a sixteenth of an inch wide drawer divider

really learning my Stanley 113

Sucking it up when I know I could do this in five minutes with a power tool

 I'm finally to the point of assembly, dry though it is, the sucker is strong, I could practically smooth the top

it has been six months now, learning and mastering tools long forgot, discovering techniques no longer taught, with tools someone found in grandpa's shed and didn't know what price to put on them at the yard sale

as I've said before, I'll say again, there is NO substitute for experience

the stretchers are finally in place, the drawer fronts cut

spacers made (these will come in handy down the road!)

 

the biggest problem I have right now is horizontal surface on which to stack the ever accumulating pile of parts

I know I said 124, but it's final at 122, all done, no more mortices to hog, thank whatever deity you worship

and I'll talk again in another month, there's a bunch of smoothing, scraping, rasping, and sanding
oh yea, then finishing and glueing
then maybe I'll have something to write about again.

process

as summer flows past in its irregular heartbeat of projects one thing has remained the same, the plodding progression of drawer building. Just when it all appears to be nearing completion, the last dovetail cut, the last groove plowed, widths and lengths tweaked, a few questions arise.

Do I really like these knobs?

well... not really, they interfere with the design in ways I can't quite figure

too small, too busy, wrong color

so it's back to the lathe, a strip of hard maple trimmed from the tabletop, and the lessons learned from the previous bunch. One afternoon is all I need this time, thirteen pieces from one stick, though it was a little hairy near the beginning.

And then it's time! Glue-up...

no wait...

Maybe I should finish the insides of the drawers first, after all sanding between coats will be so much simpler, just don't finish the tails or pins...

where to put all these pieces!

After the insides are complete I can do the glue-up (no I'm not procrastinating) final fitting, and then finish the outsides. Then I can show you the finished pictures, I think you'll agree the new knobs really made the piece!

timing

Timing really is everything. 

Don't believe me, look at every major point in your life, when something profound changed, and everything was different from that day forth.

Go on, take a minute to think about it.

So now you get it, just how important timing is.

When did you get into woodworking, when did you really know you would hasten down this path, spend all that money, invest all that time? Did timing have anything to do with it? In retrospect, everything has to do with timing, as if each moment happens and the results are already determined. 

I know, you think,  this has little bearing in woodworking, but wait there's more! It really does...

Imaging the timing that goes into a piece, if you have a nine to five or a business that you run, there's so little time for wood, but you find the time and treasure it, slave over a piece for just moments, sometimes get to indulge in a day. Hours at a time, honing the surface, stalking a fit. and then it's over.

Well if you are an optimist it's really only half over. Or, of course, you're one of those weirdo's who likes to caress the material before it's entombed, immortalized, in a mercy killing of odd chemicals. You have reached a point when you really are no longer necessary, it is what it is and it's time to let it go. That first application of finish.

Sure you've made a couple test pieces, slathered on a few candidates, picked by juried vote (you do have two halves to your brain, you know) the aesthetic and convenience you require most, but until this point you've not sullied the piece itself. It's then you see it, the oil picks up the chatoiance, light glimmers, your tools reflect in the pool, and OH GOD, the color. You knew it was there, you've planned for it, you've planed for it, you've scraped and pared, and there it is, and it's incredible, then it's gone, it's dull, the grain raises, the streaks happen, the glimmer fades, and you know it's at least another two or three weeks before that moment strikes again...

So back to timing...

it's always a good idea to time those last two or so weeks into a period when you can be there an hour or two at a stretch and have too many other distractions, so you don't drop hair and eyelashes and skin cells and saw dust into your slowly evolving finish.