Table Saw

It’s been almost a year since I last used my tablesaw. It currently stores a bunch of parts for the screen door, a bandsaw tire set, a partially finished dovetailed box, and some random scraps. It’s also the place I hang my version of the woobie.

I’m seriously considering selling it. I only use it for long rips and now that I have the bandsaw it might have lost that use as well. The other issue is saftey. This thing scares the crap out of me every time I use it. I have never had an accident, or even a close call, in the 20-plus years I have had this saw, but past performance does not predict the future (full disclosure, I typed “hand an accident” first. Unintentionally. That was chilling).

Regardless, this saw’s time is probably up. If I am going to keep a tablesaw, I am probably going to buy a saw stop. I want to introduce my daughters to the fun, and power, of making things, but the possibility of an accident is so high. My dad has been cut, twice. Once as a kid and once as an adult. The adult accident damaged his ability to fully use his left hand.

It’s hard for me to let go of this chunk of stamped steel and cast iron. It was my first major power tool and an important transition point in my life. But sometimes you just have to end relationships for your personal mental health.


Laying out Equilateral Triangles

I laid the stool legs out on an equilateral triangle.


Each leg has the same splay and rake (which might not make sense here).  There are a couple of ways to lay out this pattern, both start with drawing a circle that defines where you want your stool legs to to enter the seat.  You can see that circle above in the picture of my stool seat blank.  I determined what looked good by following an article from Mike Dunbar in popular woodworking and by making a model.

The simplest way, in my opinion, to lay out the triangle is to drop a diameter through the circle using your compass prick point as a reference, then you set your compass to the radius of the circle and strike an arc using the intersection of the diameter and the circle edge as the pivot point.  Then you connect the dots.

The other way is essentially the same approach, but you define the diameter using a right angle construction with your compass.  First you use the center point of your circle to set the compass to the radius.  Then you strike to intersecting lines from a random point on the circle edge.  Next, set your compass to the distance between those two intersections and draw another arc.  Connect the dots.

No matter which approach you use, you then draw diameters into the center of the circle to set you sight lines for the legs.


Then set your bevel and drill!!


Since I posted my last blog, I’ve actually completed two stools. The one on the left is my first stool and has a “chunkier” edge and no stretchers. It’s also normal seat height at about 18 inches tall. My second attempt is on the right and is a counter height stool with stretchers. It now lives at my bench and serves as a rear support and impromptu sawhorse on occasion.


A couple of observations before I move on to what I really want to talk about.

  1. Both stools have the same thickness seat, but the second one looks visually thinner.
  2. Stretchers make the stool feel much stiffer.  Way more than I expected.

Spend the time chamfering and carving the seat. It doesn’t really improve comfort that much, but the visual effect is worth the time. Stretchers are also worth it. While the legs are plenty strong (see this post), there is noticiable flex when my 195 pound rear sits down. Doesn’t really make me worried, but it was disconcerting when I first experienced it. The stretchers were easy and fun to make, plus I think they look way cool. Which brings me to the real point of this post. I want to talk about turning.

I suck at turning.

The image below clearly demonstrates this.IMG_6150 (1)

I turned these tapers for the legs using an Easywood tool and was utterly unable to keep the corners from chipping. Need more practice. But you know what, chair still worked. I planed off the chip out, tapered the tenons, and wedged that leg into the seat. The stretchers worked out a little better. I used a sharpened wrench to size the tenons for the 5/8 hole I made in the legs. I suggest you use a metric wrench one size larger than the hole. That made a squeaky tight fit that worked great. I think that wrench is a 16 mm. You can see the sharpened cutting edge on the top.  Wrench steel does not make for a really durable edge.


The other thing I took away from this experience is that it’s way easier to turn maple.  This should be a ‘doh thing, but nothing matches personal experience.  If you are going to turn only one wood in your life, make it maple.  It’s great.  Oak is a pain in the ass.

This did make me want to turn a lot more.  It’s fun.  You produce mountains of shavings and there’s lots of toys you could buy.  But you don’t really need the toys.  I have an ancient and crappy 12 inch craftsman lathe (it’s from the ’90s, so not really ancient), and two turning tools.  An easywood rougher and a skew chisel.  I can’t use the skew well, but I’m learning.  I’m pretty convinced that you don’t really need much more in the way of tools to do turnings for chairs or furniture.


Workable Tools and Holy Grails

I recently pulled the trigger on a new brace, picking up a Stanley 2101A in addition to my “hold all” brace that I have had for about a year. There wasn’t anything wrong with the holdall, it’s a great brace and I’ve built two nice stools with it. But the 2101 sits in a class of tools I call “grails.”

Most of these holy relics have been given grail status by being blessed by Christopher Schwarz (see, for example, the miller falls 42 and the stanley 47 bit gauge).  I have yet to purchase a tool that Schwarz has recommended and been disappointed, so historically he’s been spot on.  I do wonder, however, if I am also falling prey to the recent (maybe?) societal need to buy the “best” version of a product to show people that you’re in the know.  Ignoring the meta angst of this post, I do love the ratchet and chuck mechanism on the new brace.  The plastic handles, not so much.

There’s a weird anxiety of having a tool you know is fine and works for you, while simultaneously knowing that there is something out there that is considered to be better. I love my Stanley type 11 smoothing plane and jack plane, but part of me wonders if I love them because they’re considered to be one of the best versions of that plane made by Stanley.  Is it because they actually work better than a type 17 or 18?  Probably not. At least at my skill level, probably not.  I’m also not implying that The Schwarz, or any other respected reviewer of tools, generates this anxiety.  I believe that it’s symptomatic of the level of choice that’s available to me, an American living in the 2010s with access to the internet.  I now have a significant amount of societal pressure to spend inordinate amounts of time researching every purchase so that I don’t appear foolish to the rest of my peer group.  Yay modernity.

Depsite of (inspite of?) this, there is a definite joy in something that is useful and beautifully made.  It’s part of the reason I hunt the grail tools when I can.  For example, the  dividers below do the same thing, almost equally well.  One I just use (flat bladed) and the others actually make me happy when I use them.  Which is pretty shallow, but why waste your time doing something that you enjoy with tools that don’t make you happy, even if they work well.

Pye and The Internet

I recently read David Pye’s book The Nature and Art of Workmanship.  I was introduced to this book through the frequent quoting of his catchphrase “the craftsmanship of risk,” which he uses to differentiate craftsman-made work from mass production. It’s an interesting read and is still relevant almost 50 years later. I found Pye’s book focused on developing a working definition of craft and individual workmanship that is focused on the refutation of definitions of craft that Morris and Ruskin  (particularly Ruskin), of the English Arts and Crafts movement, put forth. Academic invective is probably an appropriate description of his tone.

However, his final chapter is interesting in that it makes suggestions and predictions about individual craft in the future. The  four points in the final chapter are interesting and are still relevant today. Particularly point 1)

The workmanship of certainty has not yet found out, except in certain restricted fields, how to produce diversity and exploit it

I had never seen these before and these last 4 points he makes are far more important, in my opinion, than the notion of the “workmanship of risk”.  Some 50 years ago, Pye had already identified the problem that rapid  protyping and 3D printing is trying to solve. By designing in the virtual space (computers or CAD), you can marry the workmanship of certainty  to the diversity associted with the workmanship of risk. Now, this is far from perfect, anyone who has used a makerbot or similar home system knows that any given print is far from certain, but if you’ve had access to expensive production machines the world is different. Those machines just work. Almost without fail. Assuming you have some skill in designing items that work for printing.

This is all rosy and optimistic, especially since 3D printing is pretty limited in size and scope at this point. But the basic idea is there, great diversity is achievable within the framework of certainty.  Even if it is only doll furniture.

Image from

Jig Saw or how I stopped worrying and learned to love the reciprocation

The first, and only, experience I had with jig saws was using my dad’s vintage craftsman. 

Wholesale stolen from ebay.

It looked pretty much like the one above, but it had the additional “feature” of being able to “steer” the blade via a twisty handle at the top. It was loud, vibrated, and had the cut accuracy of the average user of public restrooms.  I hated using it. 

Fast forward 25 years and I was staring down needing to cut out a 12″ circle from 3″ thick poplar for my first staked furniture build.  I don’t have a capable bandsaw so my choices were rigging something up with a router or cutting it with a coping saw.  Neither was a great option for me (i have router phobia). 

I was wandering through the big box store and they happened to have a Bosch jigsaw on discount. Two minutes of in-store tool review searching and I picked up the JS470E and took it home. It stated on the box that it had 4″ hardwood cutting capacity, so I hoped that a a 33(.3333333…)% overcapacity would mean that it would actually work. I thought that I could at least get it close and then clean it up. It worked ao much better than I had expected. 

The saw easily handled the poplar and left a clean (and square) cut. Took less than 10 mins to zip out the blank above and that included clanping and unclamping from the workbench.  Technology has most certainly advanced in the last few years. 

Don’t fear freehanding a circle too. Draw your line and just cut. You can always fair it out with a plane and spokeshave later. Even with a bandsaw you’ll have to do something to clean up the saw marks. And your circle diesn’t have to be perfect, just good enough to fool the eye.  

Twisting in the Wind

The space between projects is always an interesting one. There’s a sense of disorientation, for me at least, and a little bit of loss.  When you’ve been focused on the provess and goal for a long time, being without that focus can be disorienting. Since finishing  the nail cabinet, I decided to work on some essential hand woodworking layout and reference tools to fill the gap between larger projects.  The first up was a short straight edge from a scrap of maple I had lying around from my moxon vise build. I decided to make a couple of thumbnail ends and an ogee-like shape at the top for a finger hold. 

I cut these with a coping saw and then used a couple of rasps to clean up the shape.  I have a nicholson rat-tail and a Narex half-round. Both of which work fine and aren’t that expensive. I did further cleanup with some metal files.  The endgrain of this maple responded really well to the file.  Since this straightedge is only 1/4 inch wide you would think a 1/2 chisel would be enough to clean up the long sides. However, I had the best luck with my 2 in wide chisel. I think it let me feel if I was tilting and it also let me skew cut along the length.  

After the profile was shaped, I cut a finger recess with a gouge.  This worked OK, but it wasn’t very straight or even.  I used a curved scraper to straigten and smooth the groove. This was super critical because I couldn’t cut the groove with the gouge without tearing out. Curved scrapers are awesome and can be made from straight scapers with some judicious grinding. 

The next item was some winding sticks. I made these from quartersawn sapele that I picked up at woodcraft.  Not a cheap way to do it, but I wanted some dark wood.   The sticks are frequently triangle shaped because, I think, they are cut from one piece of wood.  That’s how sellers approached his. My wood wasn’t thick enough to do that, so I cut it in half and the ripped the angle. 

I cleaned up the cut on my sticking board, which let me run an angled jointer over this thin stick of wood.  If you haven’t made a sticking board, do it. It’s an incredibly useful piece of kit.  

Then came the inlay of a couple of lighter wood strips. I chose some quartersawn maple for a  nice understated ray fleck.  I defined the inlay recess with marking knives and a cutting gauge and then cleaned out the recess with a sharp chisel. A small router plane might have helped a lot here.  At least made the process faster.  

The inlay material was again cut from the moxon leftovers and then planed down to about 3/32 or so just using my smoothing plane and the bench stop. It was kinda scary planing at the toothed hook with a very thin piece, but as long as you press down hard before planing forward the part stays put. I then glued it into the 1/16 in-deep inlay recess and planed it flush with my block plane after the glue dried. 

There are some gaps, but overall I am pretty stoked with my first inlay attempt. One down side was that the sapele warped a little after gluing. I think the water in the glue caused this and I am hoping it will die down over time. The warp is along the length and doesn’t appear to impair use. Just looks bad. 

This was a lot of fun and a nice exercise in precision planing. Highly recommended.