Woodworking Class - Wood Box with Hinges

The final project in the woodworking class was making a wood box with hinges. We started with two thicknesses of board - one an inch, and the other 1/4 inch.  We cut the thicker board (using either table saw or miter) into 4 equal pieces. Then using the table saw at a 45 degree angle we angled the edges so that they would fit together (as in how picture frames edges work). Next, we used the table saw again to add a channel in each piece.  This involved several passes until the 1/4 thinner pieces of wood would fit in the channel snugly.  

Then we measured the length of the channel and cut the thinner boards to be the right length to fit in those so that the thin boards fit in the channels top and bottom while the thicker boards, with their angled edges, all came together around them. Some adjusting was necessary then, as we discovered that the jig for the 45 degree cuts could be slightly off if sawdust got trapped in the corner - meaning the angle was off, meaning pieces didn't fit together well.  

When it seemed like everything was a fit, out came the wood glue.  After numbering each piece, we took it all apart, and taped the (thicker) sides together in a line.  We added glue to each joint and then wrapped them around the (thinner board) top and bottom, fitting them into the channels, and then added more glue at the remaining open joint.  

And - sadly, mine still didn't fit together quite right, despite re-cutting before, something I'd apparently missed when fitting things together pre-glue.  But it was close enough to bring out the vices and hope for the best, so I left it at the box at end of that class with many vices hopefully keeping it in the right shape while the glue dried. 

By the next class, it looked like this: 

Glued box - still 
with big gap

My teacher had removed the vices, and come to the sad discovery that they hadn't been able to overcome the fit issues.  Note the large gap in the edges.  So he upgraded me to a box that he had whipped together with leftover boards - which was symmetrical, prettier wood, and a more pleasing shape, and apparently took him very little time since he knows what he's doing and was far from his first box. So I got upgraded to being able to use that box for the Part II of box making, while my wounded original box became the demo box.  

New, teacher-made box, 
with my wounded box
in the background

Astute observers will now note that the boxes were actually just cubes at this point, since they were completely glued together. So the class started with cutting the top of the box off using the table saw - cutting three sides, and then carefully using a pusher to cut the last side. Despite my initial fear of the table saw, I did feel like I was starting to get the hang of it by then.  

Next up was lots of sanding, initially using the band sander and then the hand orbital sanders and then by-hand with sandpaper.  Once everything was sanded (not a short process), we moved onto hinges. In theory, hinges are simple: you mark the area on the box, use a chisel to create a space for the hinge to lie flat on each side, mark the holes using a pencil, drill in guide holes and then screw in the hinges.  

In practice: oof, everyone had issues with hinges not in the right space and box lids that were askew.  So we learned about using glue and sawdust to refill holes and trying to drill again.  And we learned that the screws for the hinges were really, really easy to strip. In theory, you can use a rubber band to help as gripper to ease a screw back out. In practice it was easier to leave those screws in and try to get the not-yet-stripped screws in a better alignment.  In the end, with lots of teacher assistance, four of the six of us were able to get the hinges more or less ok before we ran out of time. Sadly, I wasn't one of them, but I did go ahead and finish it with walnut oil and rejoiced in the wood grain coming to life.  And I took it home with one flappy hinge and a stripped screws, with the idea of using open studio (which came with the class, though I didn't make use of it) to come back and get things fixed if needed. 

But next morning, I attacked those hinges anew, and, after finding a couple of slightly stronger screws, using awl to fix the holes, and whacking the heck out of some stripped screws with a mallet to get them and the hinge more or less flat again, I got the box looking more or less box-like.  The top is still slightly askew, but it's better, and hey, at least the lid is attached. 

The dreaded hinges, finally attached

Yes it's still slightly crooked, but
the wood is awfully pretty

I learned a great deal in the woodworking class, though I confess, it's hard for me to learn in group settings sometimes - so many people, so much noise, so much sawdust inhaled - and amid distraction, my precision (never my strong point) and concentration goes out the door.  But the class successfully demystified power tools and gave me the capacity think about how to use them safely and effectively. The teacher (Mike) was incredibly knowledgeable as well as kind and very, very patient with our many questions and missteps. Yes, first projects are always a bit lumpy, and that's just the way things go.  Feeling like I can absolutely learn to do more in general means I also did things in my own home life like use the huge (previously scary) hedge trimmer to trim the enormous privet hedge (without losing any fingers), and finally replace the busted light fixture in the upstairs bedroom (without burning down the house).  That's maybe the best thing to come out of any class: knowledge that you have the capacity to learn and getting over your anxieties enough to be empowered to do things yourself and I definitely got that in this woodworking class -- along with a handmade cutting board, wood bowl, and wood box.  

Woodworking Class - Router Bowl

The next project in the woodworking class was a bowl made out of a solid block of wood. Full disclosure: it wasn't my favorite project. We started with a block of oak, and using ring-shaped plastic guides that we taped to the top, we used the band saw to cut the edges to a rounded shape and mark out the interior edges of the bowl. Then we used a large cutter bit on the drill press to scoop out the largest chunks that we could. Because you can't really overlap well with those large bits (or it skitters away - it's not a fun discovery), after that it was using the hand router to dig out the rest of the wood. The hand router gets sawdust pretty much everywhere. With good reason, our teacher warned us to wear clothes we didn't mind getting really dusty. Amid hand routering, I managed to ding up the plastic ring in some routing failure, so I could not use the ring as an edge all that well, and also I forgot to do a few laps to make sure I got everything at that level before adjusting the router for a different depth, the end result was that I had some lumps in the interior wall. Oops.  

At the next class, having already used the hand router to scoop out most of the innards of the bowl, we popped off the plastic ring and used the table router to round the edges of the bottom, top outside, and (most exciting, since you are working blind) top inside of the bowl. And then there was sanding using the belt sander at first (which unfortunately introduced cross grain lines, so another imperfection to sand down) and then the hand orbital sanders on those areas that were accessible, and hand sanding the inside of the bowl. By the time I got to that, I had a lot of weirdness to try to sand down into something relatively normal looking. For a time, I thought I would take it home and sand it more on my own, but after a point, I got over that, so when we got to the finishing time, I slathered it in walnut oil, and called it good.  In the end, while it's got issues, most people aren't going to see them in the detail that I did.  I took it home and popped it into use as a catchall for keys and it's ended up being remarkably handy.  

The bowl in its finished form

Woodworking Class - Cutting Board Project

I've long been afraid of power tools. The odds of me sawing off one or several of my fingers always seemed excessively high, particularly since I tend to get jumpy around loud noises. Still, as a person prone to creating, this becomes limiting, and limitations annoy me.  So I boldly signed up for a woodworking class.  

Over six weeks, we worked on three different projects. The first of these was a cutting board, and involved using most of the biggest and scariest tools.  After a short overview on safety (use the eye protection glasses and ear protection and remember to turn on the sawdust collection systems) we got straight into it with processing rough wood (which is to say, making them into flat boards with right angles). 

The first machine up was a jointer, which creates 90 degree edges if you run your wood through two sides.  It's loud, but reasonably unintimidating as you use pushers to move the wood through, so the odds of hands near blades is small.  The jointer gives you flat edges that make it easier when you move on to the planer.   

The planer - also loud - takes tiny bits off with each pass through until the two opposite side are flat and parallel.  You can set the height you want to for the final piece as well.  It's not speedy, but it's effective.

The miter saw and table saws are where I get more nervous - large blades, right there.  The miter, most often used for cross-grain cuts, you bring the blade on a swing arm down on your piece.  On the table saw, as the name suggests, you move your piece over the blade built into the table.  The table saw at the Maker Space studio had an impressive safety feature where if it sensed skin, it would immediately lock the blade -- so you might get a scratch, but you would not lose your fingers. You would be out the cost of the blade replacement though, as you need to put in a whole new cartridge if the blade locks. Aside from fingers, kickback is an issue if you're holding the piece of wood in such as way that the energy of the saw lifts it in an unexpected direction.  This is not good, and somewhat alarming (yes, I found out, and quickly corrected).  Like the jointer, you use pushers to move the wood through, keeping the blade well away from your hands.  

After getting the general process for how to process wood (one way - there are many) using the joiner and planer, we got to choose from processed boards and think about what kind of pattern we wanted in our cutting boards.  I chose three types of wood (cherry, walnut and something white - birch, I think) and cut the boards into strips using the table saw (!).  I kept my fingers, despite being awash in nervous sweat.  

Once we had all the pieces (of various heights - the rule was everything had to be a minimum of an inch high, and the multiple pieces together had to be at least 12 inches across, but length and height varied), we got out the wood glue and went to town with a gluing fest and vices.  By the end of the first class, the cutting board in process looked like this: 

Glued cutting board
busy drying

The width the individual pieces and the board overall would stay the same, but the length of the board and height changed the next week as we finished the project.  

In the next class, we freed the board from its vices and used the miter saw or a jig on the table saw to make the cross cuts to remove the jagged ends, and then got to work with lots and lots of passes through the planer to get each piece flat and the same height.  

From there, we moved on to the table router which, for those who aren't in the know (e.g., me until recently) is how you make rounded edges.  It's also another opportunity to have kick back and wounded fingers if you're not careful (though I and my class remained unscathed).  If you move your piece too slowly on the router, you get burn marks (which you'll have to sand out) and if you move too quickly, it might chip out, so you have to find the Goldilocks speed. I didn't find that, so mine had some burn marks. The router is a bit persnickety and getting the bit at the right height and keeping the wood on the bearing took a little doing.  

And then there was sanding.  We were short electric hand sanders, so I did a lot of my sanding by hand (which wasn't the worst in some ways, as it is quieter, though my sanding wasn't the best).  You go through three types of sandpapers to increasing higher grades.  Then do a quick wet down to lift the grain, let it dry and sand some more. So much sanding.  

Because one of the pieces of my cutting board had a mild split in it wood has character), I also learned the sand & glue trick - add a little sawdust (you'll have plenty) to wood glue and it fills in quite nicely so you'll barely see it.  

And then there is the best part: once everything is the shape you want and smoothed by sanding, you get to put the finish on.  For cutting boards, food grade mineral oil is a good option.  We slathered them up and watched all the texture and grain suddenly come to life.  Then we rubbed still more oil into the thirsty boards, and left let them dry.  

By the time I got the board home the following week, the final product looked like this: 

Finished cutting board ready for use in my kitchen (along with two house plants)

The cutting board is a great first project, using a great many tools and creating something that feels satisfyingly finished at the end.  Care includes occasionally oiling it with butcher block conditioner (food grade mineral oil and beeswax) and never ever putting it in your dishwasher.  

2022 Furniture Resurrection Projects

The home I bought in 2022 was an estate sale, and came with So Much Stuff, much of which has been useful.  I have tools and nails for almost every occasion and didn't need to buy, for instance, a new lawn mower.  Some less than-beautiful-items were also left behind, many of which were tossed (the nasty white shag rug went away fast), some sold (several small tables and two southwestern chairs that were stashed in the attic), and some were restored.  Below are before, during and after shots of three such repairs.  

Potter's End Table

In the basement, I found a simple wood table, covered in dust and clay, and some knife marks, as it was likely used by a potter who at one point probably used the basement as a studio.  I still have a 1950s era kiln in the basement, and may always, since it is enormous and heavy.  Since the table (like most of the dated, but solid furniture left behind) was made of all wood, I decided to refinish it.  Twas my first refinishing attempt in quite some time. 

Before: 

During (a LOT of sanding):

After:

It came out a bit more orange than I would have like, but otherwise, I was quite pleased.  It spent a long, long time outside as polyurethane stinks for a long time, I can report.  

Coffee Table:

The coffee table had not been relegated to the basement, so it was cleaner, but had peeling layer of clearish finish, and that was about it.  I forgot to take a before photo, so in-process will have to suffice. 

During:

With the stripper on it

After sanding:

First coat of orangy stain (neighbor's cat supervising), which was followed by a darker stain to tone it down:

After: 

Porch Chairs:

The porch chairs had been left outside for a long long while, and one was split in the middle.  But some glue and several coats of exterior paint, and they've got new life and use again. 

Before:

During:

After: