Extremely Average

The tiny boxes cheered when I walked in the door.  I hadn’t been around in a couple of weeks and when I had left, I had told them I thought it would only be a few days.  They had a lot of questions and we talked a bit.  I told them about my golfing triumphs and mishaps.  They told me that it had been pretty quiet around here and that they mostly just hung out.

In the shop all the tools were pleased I was back too.  They all wanted me to use them, but I explained that I could only use one at a time.  I wanted to clean off the saw marks on the legs for the table I am building.  (Note:  I use the term bulding loosely, as all I know is that it has four legs, which I plan on tapering.)

Because I am of the opinion that my projects are first and foremost learning experiences, I decided to do some planing on my table legs.  A normal woodworker, which I am not, would likely do the tapering first, as planing an edge smooth, and then immediately cutting the taper, and thus making it scratchy again, would be considered madness.  Madness I say!

There is a very good reason for doing this however.  Becoming skilled at hand plane use is a slow process, so every chance I have to use them, and thus improve, should be taken.  Furthermore, it is likely my surfaces will go horribly awry, and then I am able to simply taper away the evidence, thus eliminating my horrible blunder for ever.  Unless of course, I write a blog piece, take  photos, and publish it on the internet.

As you can see I turned a leg with 4 right angles into one with several wrong angles.  This is the sort of thing that happens to people who are learning something new.  I am sure the other three will be equally as unimpressive.  That is ok, because when I am done, they will all be Extremely Average!

Not So Even

That was the extent of my table building for the day, but it wasn’t the end of my building for the day.  I spent most of the day rebuilding the computer which I love.  The first step was to get Photoshop CS3 installed, so I can edit my photos.  My blog has been mostly photo free for the last couple of weeks, and I have sensed your suffering.

The next task was to get the computer onto the internet super highway.  I hear it is all the rage.  This turned out to be more difficult than I had planned.  The router seemed uninterested in acknowledging the Windows 7, which is now my operating system.   They just weren’t playing well with one another.  I went over and discussed this with my local cable provider and we determined that the router didn’t have a driver for Windows 7 and there wasn’t one available.

After a short time on the phone with tech support, who confirmed that this router wouldn’t work, I had an idea.  I also have a wireless router which is connected to the unruley router.  It sends the joy of the internet all over my little bunker in Martelle.  So I just went out and bought a wireless receiver do hicky.  It worked.  Which is apparent, because I wouldn’t have been able to write this post.  Of course, you already figure this out, because all of my readers are incredibly clever.

The next task on my list of things to put back on my computer, is my driver for my microphone.  The mic has been unuseable for over a year, because I never hooked it up, after the move from DC.  When I tried to get it set up a few weeks back, I was completely foiled in my attempt.  So I decided to ask the world wide web if there were more current drivers for my microphone.  There were indeed!

I don’t know if my mic works yet, as I haven’t gotten Sony Sound Forge installed yet, so that is what I am going to do now.  Someone left a comment suggesting I make an audio book for Henry Wood.  If I get the mic to work, I just might do that.  For now, I am off to contiue to rebuild my computer.  Write at you later.

“You were right.” I said to Archie, “They loved the name the chisel contest.”

Archie smiled and said, “I am glad to have helped.”

Everyone gathered on or around the router table.  The excitement was palpable.  Not only did our judges, Archie, Marey, Teri and Tracy show up, but some of the other tools came too.  The last two days everyone had gotten to know both chisels and found that they were very friendly.

I started the meeting by reading some of the suggested names.  “Everyone, these are just a few of the suggested names for our new friends.  They are not listed in any particular order, so please wait until I get to the end of the list to make comments.”

The crowed settled down and the two, as of yet named tools, seemed a little nervous, but in an excited way.

“Hunkahank & Priss, Chip & Nemo, Jack & Daine…”

The English plane couldn’t contain himself and burst out, “I love John Mellencamp…’A little ditty about Jack and Diane…Two American kids growin up in the heartland..”

I tried to stop the English Plane, but before I  knew it, everyone was signing…myself included, “Jackies gonna be a football star…Diane debutante backseat of Jackie’s car.”

When we finished there was much laughter and clapping, the English plane took his seat and was feeling very proud of himself.  The two chisels were smiling too.   I continued with the list, “Manfried and Donna, Mr. T and Guppy, actually two people suggested Mr. T,  now the next one, also has a musician theme.”  I paused and looked at the English plane.

“No more songs, I promise.”  he said with a grin.  I wasn’t sure I believed him.

“Captain and Tennile”  I said slowly and waited for a chorus of ‘Muskrat Love’, when it didn’t come I started up with a few more suggestions, “Otto and Inga, Stan and Oliver which is a great reference to Laurel and Hardy.”

I probably shouldn’t have given my commentary, lest I bias the judges.  The fish tail chisel didn’t seem like she was overly enthused with being named for Stan Laurel.

“Two people suggested Reggie and Veronica, there was a Frick and Frack, Batman and Robin, Linus and Lucy and Rosemary and Crosby”

A few of the tools began to whisper among themselves as I read the remainder of the list.  The chisels sat patiently waiting to find out what their new names would be.  There was one question.

Marey asked, “Did anyone give a reason for their name choices?”

“Yes, there was one who gave a delightful answer”  I said and then read from the post, “They make me think of my grandparents. Manfred and Donna, Manfred is a stout and thick Norwegian man. Not over tall or big, but strong and steady – oak-ish, able to work hard from sunup to sundown to take care of his family. Endurance would be the definition of him. And he’s married to the only woman he’s ever loved Donna, who looks thin and proper though she’s not overly comfortable around the “polite society” of church ladies.”

Everyone was hushed.  Marey turned away, she said she had some sawdust in her eye.  The twins Teri and Tracy whispered among themselves.

“Are there anymore questions?”

Nobody said anything and the new chisels hugged each other.  The judges met and held a vote, it was unanimous.  We came back to the group and I said.  “It gives me great pleasure to introduce the newest member of our tool family, Manfred and Donna.”

Everyone cheered! The English plane couldn’t contain himself and busted into song, “Little ditty about Manfred and Donna…two Norwegian kids doing the best they can…”

Thanks Derek Olsen.  Great Names!

August, 1589

Dear Billy,

In your last letter you asked what I was reading.  I just finished an Italian tale by Arthur Brooke, I think you have read it.  I enjoyed it, except for the ending, of course.  Still doing a lot of gardening.  I know you don’t like it when I use the Latin names for my plants, which is silly in my estimation, as is shouldn’t matter.

I don’t mean to go on and on about the whole Latin thing, but truly, a Rosa by any other name would taste just as sweet to the dear who wonder out of the forest and nibble off their buds.   I am sorry my dear boy, it just has your mother and I so upset that we seem to be unable to stop them.

Well I need to go for now.  I will write you a longer letter tomorrow.

Sincerely,

John Shakespeare

What is in a Name Indeed

If we learn nothing from John, it is that names don’t matter, unless you are old school, then they are very important.  John tried to get his son to see his point, though it seems he was never quite convinced.  I write this overly dramatic blog piece tonight, because, well I wanted to.

For weeks now I have had a massive list of things I wanted to blog about.  Some days I am able to pick from the list and others I think of something that I want to write, right now, and just go for it.  Several weeks ago, if you can believe it, I received my first purchase from Lie-Nielsen.  Yes, I bought something from LN and it has taken me weeks before I mentioned it in the blog.

I purchased a 3/4 inch and a fish tale chisel.  I have been wanting to try one of their chisels for some time, but couldn’t decide between the two, so I did the sensible thing and bought them both.  They are lovely and have hornbeam handles.  I love how they feel in my hand.

I still haven’t given them their first whack with Archie the mallet yet.  The come with a little piece of paper which has the instructions for proper care and maintenance of my lovely new tools.  The tiny boxes, which hold each one, are pretty cool too.

I have not named either of them  yet.  I thought it might be fun to let the readers who suffer through my blog each day, pick the names, or at the very least make suggestions.  A panel of judges, Archie, Marey, Teri and Tracy and I will decide the winner.  There will be no prizes.

So if you want to enter this no prize, naming contest.  Simply head on down to the comments section and give us the names you think would be best for each chisel, and if you are feeling particularly frisky, you could even write a little bit of a story about each one.  Though the winner will receive zilch for prizes, their name will be sung in praise by the all hand plane coral group.  So there is that.

Myself and the committee look forward to your suggestions.

About three weeks ago I ordered a couple of chisels from Lie-Nielson, I was expecting them today, but wasn’t sure how they were to arrive. When I got a call from our post master, she said I had a package which needed to be signed for. I assumed it was the chisels.

When she lifted the box, it was obviously much heavier than two chisels would be, and didn’t look like it was from Lie-Nielson.  Hmm…a mystery.

It was from Canada, which added to the suspense. I lifted the package and it was heavy and I heard the sound of something made of  metal inside.  A mystery package with something made of metal?  I got very excited. The lady waiting behind me in line giggled.  I said, “I think someone who reads my blog has sent me some tools?!”

I didn’t recognize the name though. This was quite exciting. The post master let me use her scissors and I opened it. What a find! Inside there were four hand planes.  Actually they were three hand planes and a spokeshave.  My new tool friends were a Stanley 45, a Stanley 50, a Stanley 78, and a Stanley 80.  The Stanley 45 also had a box with all sorts of blades in it, the 50 had some blades too.  This was incredible.

When I got home, I laid them on the floor. Then I called my mom, and read her the letter.  It was from a gentleman who wrote that he read my blog and that he collects hand planes.  He has a bunch of them and decided that I could use these.  He also explained that he believed in the “Pass It Forward” idea.

After I hung up, I couldn’t focus on work anymore. So I laid down on the floor and looked at them, something I haven’t done since Christmas 1979, with my Legos. I played with them a little, turning knobs, and generally just looking over every detail.

I called mom back. She volunteers at a place that feeds the needy. I asked if they have anything coming up soon, and they do. She was happy to add me to the list of volunteers for this coming Saturday.  I will think of two more ways to pay it forward.  Maybe I can make something, using my planes, and donate them to a good cause?  I don’t know, I will have to give it some thought.

Next, I went outside, and my neighbor was sitting on her porch with her sister. I told them about my present. They were very excited too. I then realized that I not only was sent 4 hand planes, but a bunch of future blog posts too, as I sharpen them, use them, and generally get a better understanding of each one.  It was the gift of future writing.

Now it was time to introduce the new tools to the family.  Before I introduced them, I went down stairs and told everyone that we have some new friends joining us.  There was a good deal of enthusiasm, especially among the planes.  Most people don’t realize that, in the wild, hand planes and spokeshaves, prefer to travel in groups.  My little family of planes was especially giddy at the thought of some new members to the tribe.

We cleaned up a bit, before the guests arrived.   The workbench was cleaned off, some thing were straightened up, and all the planes were made ready.  The leader of the plane tribe is the Old English Hand plane.  He is the most outgoing and a natural leader.  So he prepared a brief speech to welcome our new friends from the north.

While he worked on his speech, I went and got our guests.  I explained that I was a new woodworker and that my hand plane tribe was small, but that they were very friendly.

I took them to the shop and introductions were made.  The speech was given and everyone hit it off immediately.  The biggest hit at the party was the Stanley 45, who is named Guy.  The Stanley 110 and 220 were especially impressed with all of Guy’s bling (blades).  Wayne (Stanley 50) and Mario (Stanley 78) hung out and chatted with the Jack planes.  The very suave Maurice, his friends call him ‘The Rocket’ (Stanley 80), was smitten with Manon Rheaume (she is the Stanley 51), they mostly hung out in the corner and spoke in whispered tones.

It was a good day.  I would like to thank my reader and friend from Canada.  I hope you are happy with the names I have given your planes.  I will do my best to ‘Pass it Forward’ in such a way as to do your generosity proud.

p.s.  My generous benefactor is a collector/woodworker named Perry, he hangs out at Lumberjocks and goes by Canadianchips.  I wanted to get permission before I mentioned his name, hence the p.s. to tonight’s blog.  Canada and Perry rock!

I have been thinking a lot about the brain today.  My brain has several modes.  There is the day dream mode, where it wonders off into a fanciful world.  In this world, of late, it is 2014, the previous year I had come into money, and decided to spend much of it on golf instructions.  This leads to uncovering an almost zen like ability, hidden deep within me, and before I know it, I am a scratch golfer.  It takes only about two tenths of a second to get through this first bit of the daydream, which lands me in the first round of the 2014 U.S. Open at Pinehurst No. 2.

Being a qualifier, and an amateur, I am in the first group, starting just after the sun has come up.  The day is perfectly still, the greens are still bathed with a slight misting of dew.  I am fortunate, as the first three holes find me on the green in regulation, just inside my playing partner’s ball.  This means I get to watch his putt.  All three of his first puts are very close, and it allows me to drain my first three, and start the day three under.  I am a golfer who yesterday shot 10 over par on a relatively easy course.  So to say that this daydream is  silly beyond compare, is understating the point by a mile.

It is fun to daydream, and today’s outing at Pinehurst took place in my head as I was driving to the  practice facilities at Finkbine in Iowa City.  This is the University of Iowa course, and a great place to go and work on one’s game.  Yesterday’s golf made it painfully apparent that I needed to work on my chipping and putting.  It is about 30 miles to the course, so after I got done winning the U.S. Open, which took about 15 daydream minutes, I started to think about focus.  Another mode for my brain.

Last night I used ‘Stumbledupon’ to find a fun site that helps one learn to speed read.  (http://www.spreeder.com/app.php)  I have been curious about speed reading since my early 20′s.  I even took a couple of classes, but didn’t stick with it.  So I decided to play with their tool.  They explained that most people read at 200 words per minute, because this is the rate at which they speak.  They went on to say that it is common for a person to start the tool at 300 wpm and still be able to comprehend the article.  The tool flashes the article to the reader, one word at a time.

So I gave it a go.  It was just as they said, the 300 words per minute was easy to follow.  My father is a voracious reader and reads at a blistering pace, though he isn’t a ‘speed reader’ per se, he just reads a bunch, and has become quick at it.  I am not a quick as Dad, but I feel I do alright.  So when they suggested that the next step was to double the rate to 600, that seemed fun.  The instructions explained that it is likely I wouldn’t be able to follow the article, but would catch some of the words.  I cut and pasted an article from CNN, put it on 600, and hit the ‘spreed’ button.  At 600, the article was not yet beyond my ability to comprehend it.   One is supposed to find a baseline, and from that, double the speed for practice.  The theory is that with time and use of the tool, one will be able to increase their ability.  I determined my baseline was 600, as 1200 was too speedy.

What I found interesting is how focused I was as the articles were flashing, one word a a time, in front of my eyes.  As I was sitting at a red light, near the course, I tried to focus on one spot on the horizon, and have the same focus from the night before.  I noticed all sorts of things that would have not registered.  I remember 3 pieces of garbage blowing across the road, a red car, a blue suv, a red suv, a silver hatch back, all turned in front of me.  The sky was full of incredibly fluffy clouds, and I even remember the spot on the horizon that was just blue sky.  It was 6 hours ago, when I turned on the focus, yet that moment is still very clear in my mind.

At the practice green, I again narrowed my focus to the task at hand, and found that the repeatability of the shots, improved greatly.  So when I got home, ready to work on my woodworking, did I turn on my brain to see if it would improve my performance with my hand planes?  No, I did not.  In fact, I was working away, trying to flatten the other side of the board, and eventually got it flat.  This seems like a win, but it was not.  I had created a board with two flat sides, but the width at each end was not even close to the same.  I had created a wedge.  I didn’t want a wedge.

As I held my wedge and turned it around, somewhat amazed at how I got to this point, it occurred to me that had I been focusing more closely, I might not have ‘wedged’ my board.  It seemed like all I was going to get from this practice session was a valuable lesson on the need to focus.  Then I read a comment from rtb, where he pointed out that I had planned to make a table from my walnut.  He wrote that making a table from walnut was a good idea, but making a table that was then going to be used to cut matte board, and likely get scratched, seemed like a bad idea.  He was right!  Though I do use a piece of foam core, beneath the matte board, before I cut it, the truth of the matter is that I should probably use ODF.

It was another one of those ‘focus’ moments.  I hadn’t really thought my project through.  I wanted to build something with my walnut.  I wanted to build a table for cutting matte board.  That was the extent of my analysis.  My brain hadn’t done a very good job with that one.

I have learned three things today.  One, when woodworking, being careful and safe are important, but they are not enough.  It is a must to turn the brain into hyper ‘Focus’ mode, especially when one is learning something new.  Two, when one is writing a blog, being in ‘creative’ or ‘daydream’ mode, is probably best.  Three, it is possible to improves one’s focus, when it comes to reading.

It seems reasonable that if I can become more focused and increase the words per minute I am able to read, it will ultimately help my woodworking.  I will be able to consume many more articles and books on woodworking.  It may also help my overall focus, which seems like this would lead to greater accuracy, and better results.

Oh, there is one more important thing I learned today, while running my No. 5 over the walnut for an hour.  Using hand planes is great a great cardio workout.

The End (This was en lieu of a concluding paragraph, which I don’t seem to be able to think of.  It appears I have lost focus.)

p.s.  When I said ‘The End’, obviously I was just fooling around.  I have more to say.  Yesterday’s post yielded another very helpful comment from Swirt, with a great link to an article on making lumber flat and square.  When I was doing the aforementioned planing, I had not read it yet. There was also a great set of tips from CanadianChips on Lumberjocks.  I responded to CanadianChips that his method seems very sound, but alas he has a few more planes at his disposal, than I do. I only have a Stanley 110, 220, 4 1/2, 5, and a shoulder plane made by the guy who sold me the 4 1/2 and 5.  I can assure you that they are not my last plane purchases. The scrub plane is the next on my wish list.

I just wanted to say thanks to Larry Marshall, who not only left a great comment on yesterday’s post, but went one step further.  He wrote a very lengthy email to me with a ton more tips, and actually does this fairly frequently.

Learning woodworking is vastly easier with the tips and encouragement.  Thanks everyone who has helped me continue to progress.  I really do appreciate it.

The End Again

I ordered a jambon sandwich and a coke. Jambon is french for ham, and it is one of my favorites. As a spy, in the days after the the Brandenberg gate became a footnote in history, who had taken over the analytics of the Russia unit, it wasn’t quite as thrilling as ‘the old days’. That being said, I still skulk around, send secret messages, and mostly try to justify my existence.

An hour before it had started raining, not a hard rain, but a steady cleansing rain that made the streets shine and left the air heavy and steamy. The waitress had used a towel and dried off the seat and table at the 20th Century Cafe. A little out of the way place in Lyon, it was like a hundred or maybe a thousand cafes all over the city, all over France for that matter. These small diner offers one an opportunity to be in public and remain relatively safe.

A tall slender woman, impeccably dressed, with dark hair, green eyes, and a thick russian accent, approached the table. I was expecting her, so I stood up to shake her finely manicured hand.

“Hello, I am Steven, you must be from Xerton Corp?”

“Das, I am Katrina, it is nice to meet you.” She said with a firm handshake and a business like demeanor. Her name isn’t Katrina, but to be fair, mine isn’t Steven. She knows that I know her name is Elana, but if people are listen, as they always are, this sort of silliness is common place. We continued to manufacture small talk.

“How are you today, did you have a hard time finding the place?” I asked, sitting down and while waving the waiter over to take her order.

“No, not at all, I am new to the city, but your directions were spot on.” came her response with a delightful smile.

The waitress brought a cup of coffee for Katrina, and I nibbled on my sandwich. Eating a sandwich at a spy meeting is generally considered very unspy like, and patently uncool. I consider it important for two reasons. It looks much more natural for people to actually eat at their clandestine meetings, and secondly, I missed breakfast.

She talked for a bit about the business deal her cover company is engaging in with my pretend company. We have been discussing this fictitious for several month, always at a different location. Document were always exchanged, drinks were usually had, and on a couple of occasions, we would order breakfast through room service. It’s good to be a spy.

Today would be less fun, as there was some important intel which actually needed to be analyzed, and sent up the food chain. I pulled out a folder, removed the documents, which looked very official. She took a few minutes and pretended to read it.

“This looks like it has all of the changes we have agreed upon, I believe we have a deal.” She looked up and smiled, removed a pen and make a show of signing in a half dozen places. Within the 30 pages of the contract were probably two sentences of instructions for her, which she would dig out later. When she was done signing, I looked it over, slid it in my briefcase and handed her a copy, which I had signed, she signed it too and the fake deal was done.

“This is a great day for both our companies, on behalf of me and my board of directors, I am pleased that will have been able to negotiate a mutually beneficial deal. I am sure both our companies will grow and prosper under these terms. I have a small gift I wanted to give you.” She removed a tiny rosewood box and set it on the table.

“You didn’t have to do that, I appreciate it, but you didn’t have to.” I smiled, and opened the box to see the small brass item. I quickly closed the box and stood to shake her.

She leaned in and gave me a kiss and…

I woke up, the tiny brass shoulder plane was on the bed besides me. It is 25 years old, and was made by Sean, who I purchased the 4 1/2 from and the 5. It is really sexy, though not as sexy as a Russian spy, but that is ok.  It was still a good dream.  Much like I would be a terrible President, I would be a terrible spy too. It is best that I focus on woodworking and not secret messages.

May 10, 1869 the golden spike links the nation by rail.  Four years earlier the project was begun, and after all that work the time it took to travel from the Atlantic to the Pacific was cut from 6 months to a week.  During this 4 year span, a company named Bailey built a number 5 plane, and now some 143 years later, I am lapping the sole of one of their planes.

Over the last 3 hours I have realized that this plane is made from very tough steel.  It has put up a remarkable fight and seems really interested not being lapped.  It may take only slightly less time than building the trans continental railway.  I have every intention of finishing the job, but it has made me curious about what this plane might say, if it could talk.

Something that is 143 years old, must have quite a few good stories.  If I asked the plane to tell me the story of it’s life I imagine it would go something like this.

Me:  “So you have been a hand plane for a long time, 143 years to be exact.”

Plane:  “Yep sunny, quite a long time, but I still got some good years left in me.”

Me:  “No doubt, I have noticed that you seem to be resisting the lapping.”

Plane:  “I am not resisting, you are just a pussy.”

Me:  “Ok, I am not sure that was necessary, I mean…that was a little bit hurtful…”

Plane:  “Hurtful, stop your crying sister, you really need to get to the gym.  I am not sure you are ready for a 5, maybe you should start out with a 1, or as I like to call it, a girly plane.”

Me:  “Well I am not sure I like your attitude.  You seem to have issues, I won’t be belittled by a crotchety old plane.”

Plane:  “Yes you will.”

Me:  “No I won’t.”

Plane:  “Did you have any other questions or did you want to get back to painting your toe nails pink.”

Me:  “Yes, do you have any good stories from your long and bitter life?”

Plane:  “I remember once, it was warm in the shop, probably around 1868, the winter I think.  I seem to remember being used to shave wood until it was flat.”

Me:  “Great story, any others?”

Plane:  “Let me see, make shavings, sit on shelf, make shavings, sit on shelf…I think you see where it is going from here, so I will stop”

Me:  “Yes.  Well thank-you for that less than enlightening interview.”

I have to admit that the plane was right, I really could use some time in the gym.   I have never painted my toe nails.

I still have quite a bit of lapping left to do, so I best get back to it.  I really do like my plane, the handle and knob are absolutely stunning.  I suspect that when I am 143, I will likely have a bit of an attitude as well.  So I am cutting him a bit of slack.  I am sure he will warm to me, when I get him back in shape and start to allow him to do what he loves.  Actually I haven’t determined if he loves shaving wood, but I definitely suspect that he prefers it to sitting on a shelf.

The parts are all there and in such good shape it is difficult to imagine it being so old.  I am confident that this will be a tool which will do my bidding for many years, though perhaps, with occasional bits of attitude.  I can live with that.  Now before I get back to the lapping, perhaps a few push ups.

It just feels right in the hands. A golf club which is the right length, has the correct shaft, and is in balance, is important. It is one’s technique which gets the ball down the fairway. If the technique isn’t understood one will spend more time walking though the underbrush of the woods, searching for the elusive and rather expensive Titleist. Those sneaky little white balls are so much easier to find when they are sitting in the fairway. So one who loves golf must practice and if done frequently enough, the reward is the sweet feeling of connecting perfectly and watching the ball sail off towards the horizon.

I was trying out my Stanley Bailey 4 1/2, after my first session of tuning. I felt like I was on the driving range of woodworking. Many of my passes with the plane were far from perfect, but some of them would sheer up lovely streamers of wood. Like a perfectly hit drive, the sound of a full and thin shaving of wood is distinctive, and satisfying. The sound of a perfectly hit drive is equally divine.

Last evening, after I had put up the Ch 20 of the Henry Wood saga, I enjoyed the new Sherlock Holmes move, while lapping my plane. I lapped for the first half of the movie, then switched to working on the blade. Tonight when work was done, I was not under the impression that I had finished tuning my 4 1/2. I was however dying to see how it worked. I grabbed a piece of practice wood, which I had spent 50 cents on. It has lots of flaws and isn’t really good for much of anything, and when I saw it, I thought it would be good to practice on. I was right. It is serving it’s purpose well.

I planed the edge for a bit.  There were several tricky areas and it made for good practice.  Then I flipped the board on it’s side and went to work on it.  This was fun.  The big wide shavings were quite a treat.  Does the board look like a finely planed masterpiece?  Not even close, but again, it was about the practice, so there was value in the exercise.

There are many reasons I am giddy over my new hand planes, not the least of which is that while I am reading my ‘Working with Hand planes’ book, from the Taunton press, I have some planes to use in learning their tips. I really like the book, but the first time I flipped through it, it was a bit difficult to fully grasp what they were saying, without actually being able to look at one.

In the introduction to the book by Anatole Burkin, he wrote, “My first hand plane almost ended my interest in woodworking. To say it was useless is an understatement. It did not plane. It hacked. I wasn’t sure whether to fault the tool or the user.” I had the book well before my first plane, and that first paragraph made me realize how important it is to get a quality tool and to take the time to learn how to tune it correctly. I have created my sandpaper and marble squares, because it makes it easy to spend the time required to do the job right.

It also seem fortunate that I was able to get my 4 1/2 and 5 from someone who really knows hand planes. He explained why the 4 1/2 would take much longer to get in shape, and this helped me set my own expectations. Each new skill I attempt to gain always has a bit of mystery about how much effort is going to be required. I don’t mind putting in the work, but it is nice to know how long it should take. With my practice cuts, it seems like I am making progress, but it may take a few more than 100 lines. Still, having a goal of 100 to start with, was really helpful. I have cuts 81 – 100 yet to do. Perhaps I will do them later. Perhaps I will watch the Cavaliers and the Celtics and continue to work on my plane. Maybe I will do both? I am a man who likes to live on the woodworking learning edge.

When the day began one man woke with thoughts of antique hand planes waiting to be discovered, the other of fish.  Bass in particular.  One headed to the antique mall and poured over a hand full of old planes, none of which caught his eye.  They were damaged, missing parts, or were simply produced by inferior companies.

The other guy had better luck with rod and reel, for he caught the largest bass of his life.  10 pounds, and there is photo proof, though we don’t have it available for the blog.  Sorry.  If one were to guess where these two people’s paths might cross, it is unlikely that they would have picked, ‘Standing in an art gallery in West Des Moines, looking at a $300,000 Picaso.’

That is where I ran across my friend Bryce.  I haven’t seen Bryce in several years, the last time being in Iowa City.  I believe I was wearing a Santa Suit at the time, and had been drinking enough vodka to make my nose redder than Rudolph’s.  I am not much of a drinker, but every few years, I will join the 150+ people who go on the Santa Pub crawl.  The crawl has been going on for over 20 years.  I believe they had the ‘What happens on the Santa Pub crawl, stays on the Santa Pub crawl, well before Vegas did.’  So there will not be any further mention of it.

It was good to see Bryce.  I also enjoyed my day out.  I would imagine I spent around 4 hours pouring through various antique stores, and though I did see several planes, none of them were of the quality that my new discerning tastes would accept.  It is ok.  I still had fun.  There was even a slight feeling of satisfaction at having resisted the temptation to buy some inferior planes, with the thought that maybe I could save them.

There were two purchases which I passed up, which I am not sure if I made the right decision.  So tonight I would like to describe them, and perhaps the readers could give me their feedback.  There was a Stanley 45, which was not in the same pristine condition as the one I saw last night.  It didn’t have the original box, all the extra stuff, and wasn’t quite as nice.  It was in reasonable condition though, the handle looked to be in good shape.  It was priced at $65.00.  This is many hundreds less than the one from last night, so it really isn’t comparing apples to apples.  My question is, should I have picked it up?  I just don’t know.

The second item I didn’t pull the trigger on, was a fairly low risk $5.00 purchase.   It was an old Stanley socket chisel.  I am well aware of the quality of old Stanley planes, but I can’t recall reading anything about their chisels.  It occurred to me that it might be cool to turn a nice handle for the chisel and replace the old one.  I imagined using an exotic wood and ending up with a bright and shiny chisel.  I reminded myself that I don’t know how to use a lathe, or own a lathe, two issues that would greatly impede my ability to complete such a project.

My feeling is that the old chisel should have probably been purchased because of it’s price, even if it wasn’t good steel.  I am not able to say if I should run back and get the 45 or not.  That is where you, the reader come in.  Tonight’s daily question, which I work diligently to add to my blog 1 to 3 times per month, is ‘Should I buy the Stanley 45?’  Because I realize that everyone is busy, I am making this a multiple choice question.

1)  Should Brian return and buy the Stanley 45?

a.  Yes

b.  No, it is overpriced.

c.  No, it is grotesquely overpriced, you would bring shame to your family and likely lose the respect of every woodworker within a 200 mile radius of the antique mall where you saw it.  What was the name of that antique mall again…and the address…are they open on Sundays?…but definitely, you don’t want to buy it.

d. I refuse to answer your silly question.

e.  All of the above.

There are very few excuses for a late blog piece, which I would consider acceptable. Tonight I have one. As I mentioned yesterday, I traveled to my parents near Des Moines this evening. At around 8:00 I went to see a gentleman who had a massive collection of very old and beautiful hand planes. The blog is late because I got a 2 hour course in the history of some of the finest planes Stanley has ever made. Many of his planes are in original boxes, some of them he has used, all of them were beautiful.

He showed me the #55 Stanley with 100% nickel plating, completely in tact with all cutters and accessories. It was out of my price range, but a joy to behold none the less. We looked at a #45, in the original wooden box with all the cutters and even the screw driver, which I was told, is often missing. Again, beyond my budget for the evening. There were 3 #2 Stanley’s, one of which, he said was the best plane he had ever used. For a man with a collection of this size, that was saying something.

There were all sorts of combo planes and bench scrapers. I can’t begin to remember all the numbers. Many were from before the Cubs last won a World Series. He was so nice, he let me play with a tiny all brass plane, which is designed for cleaning up dados and tenons. It was like magic to use. Even the sound was appealing. It was a plane which he had made. I couldn’t afford to buy it tonight, as there were a couple of others which beat it out, but I will go back and get it in a couple of weeks when I return to Des Moines.

He brought out a bull nose plane. The designs on it were brilliant. I asked if he had used it, and he pointed to the stairs. It worked really well. The best part about my history lesson is that he knew I wanted planes to use, and he helped me choose two good ones. I bought a Stanley 4 1/2, which will require a bit of work, but when it is done, it will be a great plane. I also bought a beautiful #5 with lovely handles, in beautiful shape, that he said is a dream to use. The balance and the weight, even to a novice, were evident. I could have easily spent several thousand dollars tonight, but alas, I didn’t have a couple of thousand, so I bought what I could afford, and then we talked woodworking and I got a tour of his house.

After the tour, he took a look at the planes I had purchased last week. He told me how I was doing with the tuning. It appears I have done a pretty good job thus far, but he gave me a coupe of pointers to make them even better. We also discussed my Jack plane that was in the box. Since I now have two planes which will handle any task which I would have used the Jack plane for, I am pleased to announce that I am NOT going to use it. This will please the people who have written me asking me to please spare this plane from use. I am still not going to sell it to any of these people, as I love it, but I will be keeping it and making sure that it stays in the wonderful shape it is in.

I haven’t been at this very long and to see a home, completely filled with tables, chairs, clocks, a desk, and fireplace mantle, all created by his skilled hands was thrilling. I haven’t mentioned his name, because I think he would prefer that I don’t. But if there are some readers, who are interested in some of his rare and beautiful planes, just drop me an email and I will put you in touch. He even had a really old Stanley #4 (I believe), not only in the original box, which was in remarkable shape, but it had the original tissue paper which it was wrapped in. I can’t remember all the other details, as I am hurriedly trying to get my blog post done and up, to keep my streak of 123 days alive. Which is, I admit, a pretty weak excuse. But I promise to make it up, by taking some pictures tomorrow. Ok, now I am going to go look at my purchases, and smile a bit.