Blueprints are done!!

I started drawing floor plans in September 2016.

Bought the land in December 2016.

Interviewed over 2 dozen timberframers.

Collected cost data for the entire project into a ridiculously large spreadsheet.

Collaborated with Downstream Construction in the design of a beautiful timberframe.

Modeled the entire thing in 3D.

Figured out how to turn that 3D model into 2D blueprints.

Had the entire design tested by a structural engineer.

Went through a few rounds of revisions.

And now, 14 months later, I'm the proud owner of stamped and approved building plans!  :)

That was ...really hard.  I had to level up several skills along the way, but it's done.  Thank the gods it's done!  It really wore me down.

I'm about to undertake one helluva woodworking project.

Here she is, folks....

Branding Irons Unlimited

A couple years ago, my wife decided she wanted to buy me a custom branding iron so I can apply a maker's mark to each piece of furniture I build.  It took me a really long time to figure out what I wanted my mark to be.

Here's where I ended up...

My last name is Erwin, originating from the Clan Irvine in Dumfriesshire, Scotland.  The etymology reveals that it's probably from Celtic words connected with Welsh ir, yr "green, fresh" + afon "water".  The clan was situated along the Irvine River in Scotland, thus their name.

So my last name means "green water", "fresh water", "water of life" (whisky!), "green river", "river of life", et al.

Next step: what is the celtic symbol for water?   

This is where it gets a little vague.  Symbology is messy stuff and symbols tend to get adopted and converted to other meanings as time passes.  But several sources have associated the triskele or triskelion or triple spiral with water (among many other things).  

The triple spiral dates back 5,000 years to a burial ground at Newgrange.  Interestingly, the spiral and triple spiral symbols have appeared in a variety of world cultures spanning the globe, throughout human history.  There's just something about spirals.

So while the Irvine Clan actually has a coat of arms, and a symbol all their own, I'm choosing something that isn't so on the nose.

So here it is.  My name, my handwriting, my mark.

I'm amazed at how crisp and fine those lines are.  Branding Irons Unlimited did a great job.  This is one heavy duty, quality made tool.

Moxon Vise Support Block

My shop is in disarray until I can offload 600+ board feet of clear white pine that's monopolizing all of my space, so I've been using this time to plan a few different projects.  This time I'm working on my Moxon Vise.  I've already got the Benchrafted hardware and the hard rock maple, I just need time and a plan (...and space to work).

I'm enamored with the benchtop Moxons I've seen, especially Derek Jones' versions, but I have to be realistic.  I don't have much shop space and I'd like to be able to hang the vise up to get it out of my way when I'm not using it.

I'm also a fan of simplicity.  Christopher Schwarz just uses a piece of scrap.  To date I've been using my Jack Plane as the support, but that won't work with a vise that elevates the work 8-1/4" above my workbench top.

My only problem with Schwarz's piece of scrap is that it looks like scrap and can be easily lost.  Cutting another piece of scrap to the necessary length is an easy affair - scrap is always available.  But I'd rather keep all the necessary components of the vise together when it's not in use. A place for everything and everything in its place.

So with that in mind, I came up with this option.

The support block serves double-duty as the "flush" elevation block to position the vertical board.  Clamp the vertical board, reposition the block, position the horizontal board.  Done.

The dovetailed slot in the stabilizer gives it a place to live where it's unlikely to get misplaced by the Workshop Gremlins.

I'm also going to add springs and maybe some knobs like David Barron did.

Arts & Crafts End Table Design

It happens every time I design something and walk away for a few months.  When I finally look at the idea again, it's not quite good enough.  

Make a bunch of cubic rectangles and put them together, right?

This was my first "final" draft.

My original "final" design from several months ago.

It didn't take long for me to get sick of it.  It's too blocky, too thick.  It needs refining.

Spindles!  Just say no!

I spent another week on it and came up with a spindle version which became the next "final" draft.

Final Draft #2

I added a bevel to the underside of the top to lighten things up a bit, played around for awhile trying to find a spindle pattern that wasn't too plain, removed the double tenons and added a slotted dovetail drawer blade.   This remained for 3 or 4 months as the plan.

Fast-forward to today.  I opened the Sketchup model again and can't shake the feeling that I still hate how boxy and heavy it looks.  I also hate dusting between spindles and swore I'd never build spindle furniture.  I thought it needed something, but this isn't it.  It's too dark, too heavy, too boxy.

Fix it! But how?

One proven strategy for lightening the look of pieces like this is to taper the legs, but no.  I'll save that for the Shaker bedroom set I'm going to build for the boys.

Flare the legs out?  Definitely not.  For our taste, some of the Mackintosh pieces are too wide-bodied, and the Asian-inspired Arts & Crafts fusion isn't our bag.

The main reason we avoid these more vocal styles is that we're trying to find a universal aesthetic that fits with the rest of our home, even as styles change.  The end tables need to match the coffee table (already built) and everything needs to blend in with craftsman, rustic, lodge or whatever decor my wife decides to fill the room with.

A lot of Arts & Crafts furniture is big, boxy, heavy, bulky, strong, solid.  I think the real exercise here is to stay within the Arts & Crafts genre, but be as airy and lightweight as possible.  This is probably why we lean toward the Harvey Ellis style with his graceful and uplifting arcs.

I spent a good few hours today nudging things around.  I decreased the thickness of the top from 1" to 3/4" and that lightened it quite a bit.  I raised the skirt to add a bit more air underneath and deepened the arcs to increase the uplifting effect.  Instead of having a plank spanning the entire width of the table, I left room on each side to let even more air and light through.

At one point I had the plank through-mortised into the front and back skirts, but decided it added too much noise, drawing too much attention to itself.

Through-tenons on the plank.  I found it distracting.

We're trying to maintain a bird's eye view of the entire living room set across several years of separation (as I'm rather slow at building things).  Every stylistic decision here would have to carry through to the other pieces of my living room set.  So she also vetoed the Limbert-style gridwork plank approach I toyed around with at one point, too.

The latest "final" draft.

 Right now I feel pretty good about this.  I'll let it simmer for a week and come back to it with fresh eyes and see if it needs more tweaking.  Lots of Golden Ratio dimensioning again, because it's fun.  In the future I want to play around with Jim Tolpin's By Hand & Eye approach.

Q&A - What would I do differently?

Round 3 of Brady Kirkwood's Q&A for the Jewelry Armoire / Lingerie Chest build he's going to undertake.  He graciously agreed to let me publish his questions alongside my answers in case anyone else finds use in them.

Question #3

What would you do differently, either in the making or the design? 

What would you do to make the assembly easier?

My Response: 

I wrote up a "What Went Wrong" summary at the end of the project.  I'll pull some from there.

• I never replaced those phillips-head screws for the back panels like I said I was going to.  I got too tired and didn't want to wait for an order of screws.  Note to Chris Schwarz: don't look back there.
• The aniline dye bled into the maple drawer sides.  I attempted to tape these off to keep them pristine, but it didn't work out.  Next time I'll prefinish the drawer fronts and then assemble.  Then when I'm fitting the drawers, I'll just plane their end grain off.  If I go in carefully with a paintbrush I might be able to just darken them a bit without it bleeding into the maple.  The only other method I can think of is to make my dry-fit as close to the drawer opening as possible so I don't have to remove any material.  Not sure how I feel about this approach.
• I continue to have trouble with drawbore pins blowing out the grain on the far side.  Quartersawn White Oak is brittle in parts, so that certainly doesn't make it any easier, but I need more practice.  I've solved this on the Flip-Top Table build.  Basically I use less of an offset for Quartersawn White Oak (1/64" to 1/32" maximum), and I spend a lot of time making the tips of my drawbore pegs perfectly hemispherical.  I used to sharpen them to a pencil point, but the point was catching the grain on the far side instead of sliding past, forcing a blow out.  I tried flattening the sharp point, but it wasn't enough.  I looked very closely at the pegs in Doucette & Wolfe's Trestle Table Build video and noticed his tips were much rounder than mine, so I went that route and it worked perfectly.  Also, I use my rattail rasp to file the entry hole on the breadboard tenon so that it has a bit of a chamfer.  This helps guide the peg into the tenon hole.  And finally, hide glue lubricates the peg as it goes in where Titebond II does not.  My best advice is practice on scrap until you get it right consistently.  If it fails, it fails catastrophically.  :P
• I kinda wish I made narrower pins in the dovetails.  These look like they could have been made by a machine router bit.  I was super nervous going into that phase of the project so I gave myself extra room to screw up, but I think I've got the hang of it now and can start leveling up my dovetails.
• The top isn't perfectly flat because my workbench wasn't perfectly flat.  It's close though.  If I were to build another bench I don't think I'd bother with the split-top.  One solid surface seems like I'd enjoy it better.  Add it to the list!
• I took a bit too much wood off a few of the drawer sides when fitting them, removing the possibility of a piston-fit.  I had to glue some thin shims to the drawer guides in the lower drawer bays and then plane them back down until the larger drawers stopped jamming.  I admit I was impatient at this point and wanted the drawers in and done, but this is the worst kind of mistake after all this work.  It's so important to slow down here and take super light passes and keep retesting the fit over and over again.  Once you go too far it's too late.
• My drawer closing stops were positioned too close to my drawer guides, thus preventing my large shoulder plane from fitting in there to tune the drawer guides like I intended.  I could have bought a smaller shoulder plane, but I chose not to.  If I had it to do over, I would have used a rabbeted guide as Mario Rodrigues does (See Popular Woodworking - February 2009 - Issue #174 - 7 Strategies for Better Drawers).  
• I should have planned the assembly better in the design phase.  I think the main carcass glue-up exceeded 70 parts.  I did a ton of dry-fit practice runs beforehand, but still... stressful isn't the word.  Also, despite them fitting perfectly during the dry-fit, the sliding dovetail webframe fronts didn't seat flush with the legs.  They're probably 1/128" - 1/64" proud of the surface.  I beat on them with a mallet really hard, but no luck.  And since they were pre-finished, I couldn't plane it flush after assembly.  Maybe I won't pre-finish this type of assembly next time for this very reason.
• I still hate machine routers.  I had to use it for the 52" long lock miters in the legs.  If I can figure out a way to do this by hand, I'll probably do it.  It'll be safer, quieter, slower, and with less potential for grain explosions.

New addition to the list, after living with the dresser for a couple years and looking at it every day....

The front drawer blades are displaying flat sawn grain.  I find this incredibly distracting.  I really wish I trimmed a piece off, rotated it and glued it back on so that these blades would display quarter sawn grain to the viewer. 

To Simplify the Assembly Phase

With integral side panels, I can't really think of a way to simplify the assembly.  Reason being: you can't put those side panels into their slots without putting all of the web frames and all of the legs together in a single glue-up.  More than 70 parts in a single glue up.  Woo!

My advice is to dry-fit as many times as it takes until you memorize the order.  Tune the fit of every joint that shows the first sign of binding.  The time to tune isn't when the glue is on.  :)  

Although... 

If you choose to not do the side panels, you can do an initial assembly of legs + top frame + skirts.  That will lock in the core length / width / depth dimensions of the entire piece.  Then you can take your time and put in one web frame at a time.  A much more methodical and relaxing process


Hmm...  perhaps there's another way to get those side panels in after the fact.  Maybe treat them like glass panels.  Put them in place after the initial glue-up and then tack or glue on a little strip of wood to hold them there and to hide the edges of each panel.  Like so... hm..... wait... no.  Never mind.  

If you're going to put the side panels in after the fact, you might as well just put one tall panel the size of the door bay.  Or even better, you could do thin, narrow, shiplapped planks in there running vertically.  That would certainly simplify the main carcass assembly, allowing you to break it out into stages.  It also maintains a consistent overall aesthetic.  Not too shabby!



Stage 1: Legs + Skirts + Top Frame + Back (and Side) Mounting Strips (something to screw or nail the shiplapped planks into)

Stage 2: Glue and tap in one web frame at a time.  They are pretty much self-clamping, especially with the plywood panels holding them to their exact width, pressing them into the leg notches.

Stage 3: Screw or nail on the shiplapped planks onto the back and inside the door bays

Stage 4: Glue on the rabbeted Drawer Guides, attach the Top

Stage 5: Make and mount the Doors & Hinges, tune the fit

Stage 6: Make & fit the Drawers

Stage 7: Attach the Drawer Stops, Door Catches, Knobs 

There's probably more, but this is off the top of my head...

By removing the side panels and their captive grooves, you will be able to reduce the width of the web frame sides, as some of that material is now unnecessary.  This will allow you to have 3/8" thick shiplapping for the door bays and end up with the same internal volume I did.  But if it were me, I'd make 1/4" thick shiplapping, as every bit counts in that cramped space.

I spent a lot of time trying to figure out a way to maximize the storage space in there without sacrificing wood strength or creating weak wood joints.  The easiest option is to have wider legs, pushing the doors out farther, but I wanted to keep it looking as slender as possible.  It's a tight space and a difficult puzzle to solve.

Q&A - Side Panels between Drawer Web Frames

Round 2 of Brady Kirkwood's Q&A for the Jewelry Armoire / Lingerie Chest build he's going to undertake.  He graciously agreed to let me publish his questions alongside my answers in case anyone else finds use in them.

Question #2 

If making the project again, would you put the panels in all the web frames between drawers or just keep them open? (you might be able to tell, I am trying to cut down the sheer number of piece parts in this project)

My Response:

I would.

Firstly, because I don’t want dangling necklaces or earrings to fall into the drawer bays.  

Secondly, I was super enamored with one of Tom Fidgen’s builds in his book Made By Hand.  

I took a lot of inspiration from that project.  He had a SketchUp model at one point, and I was able to dissect it piece by piece to see how he put it together and walk through the joinery decisions he made.  It was fascinating and is probably one of the most efficient ways I've found for learning complicated carcass joinery methods.

The beauty of the thin panels suspended in those web frames with no glue was just such a clean look and really added some class for when you open the side door.  At one point I considered using poplar and covering the entire interior of the door bay with velvet, but my wife liked the bright look of the maple.  So we used waterborne polycrylic for the maple parts to keep it looking white and not yellow like it would with an oil-based polyurethane.  It's a nice, bright surprise when you open the side doors and contrasts nicely with the darker tones of the oak.

Tom's was a very complicated build and I was as hungry for the challenge of suspending those panels as I was interested in their thin, delicate beauty.

In general, I don't think making, prepping, and fitting those side panels was that big of a deal.  Cut them to rough size out of 3/4" thick stock, resaw each piece in half, flatten one surface, run them through the thickness planer, shoot them to their final dimensions.  Done.  

The real effort and focus was in the drawer web frames and getting them mounted correctly in the legs.  Once that was done, it's just some plow planing (which is super fun anyway) to make a groove for the panels.  I used a router table with a fence to run the groove down the long legs.   

I do remember having a feeling of real satisfaction when the panels first went in, though. 

M'mmm... so smooth... it's almost like I knew what I was doing all along, ...or something.

UPDATE: Brady has informed me that he was actually asking about the horizontal panels within each web frame.  So I'll answer the question again.

Question #3 (again)

If making the project again, would you put the panels in all the web frames between drawers or just keep them open? (you might be able to tell, I am trying to cut down the sheer number of piece parts in this project)

My Response:

I would put them in again.  Clothes piled too high in a lower drawer may interfere with the function of the drawer above it.  A piece of jewelry may fall out of place and without these dust panels in place, you may have to remove every single drawer in order to find it.  

They are just 1/4" Baltic Birch plywood and were the easiest thing to make in the entire project :P  

Why did I choose to use plywood when I've been so fussy on every other detail?  

Because I wanted them to fit perfectly within those web frames, forcing them to an exact and square dimension.  During the glue-up they were applying lateral pressure to keep the web sides pressed into the notches in the legs.  I wanted to glue the web back rails in place, and didn't want to allow for expansion here.  

In retrospect, it wouldn't have been a difficult thing to design for a solid wood panel with an expansion gap, but I see nothing wrong with using plywood when it makes sense.  No one sees this part of the dresser, it's a large surface area to cover, and solid wood panels would have been a pointless expense for no functional, structural or aesthetic gain.

Q&A - Drawer Slips vs. Grooves

I'm gonna call this Round 1 of Brady Kirkwood's Q&A for the Jewelry Armoire/Lingerie Chest build he's going to undertake.  He graciously agreed to let me publish his questions alongside my answers in case anyone else finds use in them.

From Brady: 

I am very much looking forward to getting started, it might be in a few weeks that we kick this project off.  I do have a few design/build questions for you:

1. Why drawer slips instead of integral dados cut for the drawer bottom?
2. If making the project again, would you put the panels in all the web frames between drawers or just keep them open? (you might be able to tell, I am trying to cut down the sheer number of piece parts in this project)
3. What would you do differently, either in the making or the design? What would you do to make the assembly easier?

Thanks again for all the support! 

My Responses:

Question #1 - Why did I use drawer slips instead of just plowing a groove on the inside of the drawer sides?

Much of my reasoning and justification for choosing drawer slips can be found in this conversation, compiled by Derek Cohen.

Point #1 - Grooves in thin drawer sides weaken the drawer sides too much

My drawer sides are only 3/8" thick.  Cutting a 1/4" or 3/16" deep groove into 3/8" thick stock would leave so little wood that it would weaken the drawer side too much, and it would weaken it right where the weight of the contents of the drawer are bearing down. Antiques with grooved, thin drawers have had their sides fracture off over time.

Point #2 - Drawer slips are the "finer" approach (my opinion)

Historically, grooves in the sides of drawers are very common in both European and American furniture from the 1700's thru modern day, whereas drawer slips are much more common in British furniture making.  I thought I had read somewhere that the groove method originated in a factory production setting as a way to speed up drawer box joinery, that it was mainly used for shop drawers, kitchen drawers, or more practical pieces where the finest approach wasn't necessary; the implication being that they were trying to keep costs down.  As I re-read about the topic now, it seems to mainly be a difference between the British approach, and everybody else's.  In any case, I liked it.

[From the same conversation linked above, emphasis is mine] 

Richard Jones: Drawer slips were in common usage in high quality British furniture in the 1700s... or at least that is what I've found in the restorations I've done over the years. Country furniture and lower quality stuff all the way through to modern work often uses a groove in a thick drawer side... which is the same as in most American furniture, even the antique American furniture that's highly rated by those that are supposed to be in the know.  
Contemporary British furniture makers almost exclusively use drawer slips in high quality work. They are common [...] drawer parts around here. Drawers without drawer slips, except in the smallest drawers, are generally considered of inferior quality suitable for workaday furniture, kitchens, workshop drawers, that kind of thing. As long as the side is thick enough it will handle a groove. The problem with thick drawer sides is reckoned to be their inherent ugliness. I have always found it a bit odd that truly attractive American cabinet furniture, whether new or old, usually had within it some drawers with thick drawer sides, 1/2" or more sometimes-- they almost always look heavy and out of proportion to my eyes, but I guess that's just me.

My goal with this project was to research and identify the "best" and most "fine" approaches possible and to push myself to reach for the standard of the master woodworkers of the past, if only to prove to myself that I can build to that level of precision and quality.  From my research, I found that the "finest" drawers were made with slips, so that's what I built.  

Interesting side note regarding another difference between modern and historical joinery methods: Evidence from antiques suggests that modern woodworkers' obsession with perfect dovetails is not something woodworkers of the 1700's and 1800's concerned themselves with overmuch -- that their dovetails were slapdash and quickly done, even on high end furniture, and that precision wasn't that important to them.  Reason being: a gappy or variably angled dovetail still holds perfectly well, and has proven to do so for hundreds of years.  That being said, I consider precision-fit dovetails to be a beautiful thing, and as I'm creating an object of function and beauty, I chose to be fussy with my dovetails.  :-)

So long story short: If you make your drawer sides 1/2" thick, you can do grooves if you want to, and they will serve perfectly well for the life of the piece.  I was aiming for delicate and feminine in my proportions and I thought 1/2" thick drawer sides would have looked and felt too thick and bulky, so I opted for thinner drawer sides, which led me to drawer slips as my best option for mounting the drawer bottoms.  

Point #3 - Drawer slips improve the wearing life of the drawer

Drawer slips increase the wearing surface that the drawer runs on.  Instead of riding on a 3/8" thick drawer side, the drawer box rides on a 3/8" + 3/4" wide surface.  Over many years, thin drawer sides will wear down, and thin drawer sides made of hard wood may create tracks in the front drawer blade if the drawer blade is made of softer wood.

Increasing the durability of your drawer sides by choosing a harder wood like maple, and increasing the wearing surface, will prolong the working life of the drawer and minimize any wear on the front drawer blade.  I consider this detail as important as maintaining the strength in thin drawer sides.

// End of Question 1.  phew!  This post is already too long, so I'll break the questions out into 3 separate posts.  Stay tuned!

Flip Top Table Slide System

For anyone unfamiliar with what a flip top table does, check out this video.  Take your time.  I'll wait.
M'kay?  Good.

So I went to the Stickley showroom and took some photos of how they put their table together.  I'll leave those photos here, just for the sake of being thorough, but the one to pay attention to is the view from underneath the table.

This is the important photo, at least for this blog post.

Alright, so Stickley uses two guide rails positioned 6" from the inside face of the aprons, with 1 cleat on each guide rail attached toward the center of the table (rather than on the apron side of the guide rail).

Then they have a center stiffener and crosspiece separator to keep everything uniformly parallel and prevent any bending or bowing during the life of the table.  They used pocket screws to attach the separator to the guide rails, and notched the separator up into the stiffener.  This is necessary because the guide rails really need to stay parallel to one another to avoid impeding the smooth action of the slide.

I changed a few details from Stickley's method, not because I think I know better, but because I like to solve a puzzle by finding my own solution... and I like to overbuild.

I didn't like the guide rails so far out toward the aprons - mainly because of seasonal wood movement in the table top.  With their cleat arrangement, if the table top expands in humid months, the cleats will push against those guide rails making sliding more difficult.  Worst case, they'll prevent the table top from expanding and worse problems may arise.

In all likelihood, quarter sawn white oak won't expand that much to be a problem.  I calculated the seasonal wood movement to be ~1/4" across a 40" wide table top of quarter sawn white oak.  That's not much, but I'm weird, so I chose to hazard on the side of caution.

I chose to position my guide rails at 1/3's of the width of the table base.  My thinking is that it more evenly distributes the racking forces on a table and it moves the cleats a little more toward the center of the table top, where wood movement effects more minimal.  Also, by having my cleats on the apron-side of each guide rail, if the table top expands, the cleats just move away from the guide rails a little bit.  No big deal and no wood is prevented from moving when it wants to.

From underneath you'll notice that I'm using double tenons to attach the guide rails to the aprons, instead of a sliding dovetail that Stickley uses.   I am using a sliding dovetail to attach the stiffener, though.  And my separator isn't pocket screwed to the sides of the guide rails.  I'm going to dovetail it instead.  Overkill, but I like dovetails.  They're pretty.

Stickley screwed in their corner blocks.  I'm gonna dovetail mine in.  I've never done a dovetail on a 45° angle before.  Should be fun.  If it doesn't work out, I can always get out the drill.  :-)

So that's what I'm working on now.  Stay tuned for more.

Entryway Bench & Mirror Project (Begins)

The next project on the list is a Stickley-inspired storage bench with accompanying Stickley-inspired mirror for the entry to our home.  Currently we have a piece of junk, pre-made, dowel-assembled shelf unit painted with some sort of leather-effect spray paint my wife found and thought might be a good idea.  We hate it, but it's where the mail goes, and until we have an alternate solution in place, it will remain in place.

Gathering the Puzzle Pieces

The beginning of every project starts with identifying the problems we're trying to solve.  In this case, there are certain functions we want our entryway bench and mirror to satisfy.

• A place to hang our car keys
• A place for guests to sit to take off their shoes
• A place where we can temporarily place the newly received mail
• A place to check yourself in the mirror before going out on that hot date (riiiight)
• The mirror should be low enough that my 5'2" wife can see herself in the mirror, but also tall enough that average height individuals can do the same without having to duck. 
• A place for guests to hang their purses
• A place for guests to hang their jackets for short visits
• for longer visits we'll just hang stuff in the coat closet
• A place to store dog leashes, collars, treats, and poop bags
• A place to store winter hats, gloves, scarves, mittens
• It should match the other Arts & Crafts style furniture in the room
• We tend to prefer a little Harvey Ellis influence in our Arts & Crafts, though less pronounced on the curves.
• Built with solid enough construction that it will last 100 years

Finding Inspiration: The Bench

The next step is where my wife and I do a few web searches and critique different styles of benches.  We even visited the Stickley showroom and saw a few in person to get a sense of scale and construction technique.  This process resulted in the following images.

(source: Stickley Mission Collection)

This first image is a Stickley Blanket Chest which is what we decided to use as our guide.  The key problems with reproducing this exact chest are that it's taller than typical bench height, deeper, and not quite as long as we would prefer for the space in which we want to place it.  Simply stretching it out isn't the perfect solution because it changes the proportions.  Also, that lid doesn't look very comfortable for sitting on.

(source: uknown)

This bench is closer to the overall length/width/height we're looking for, but we're not huge fans of the Greene & Greene (cloud lifts, ebony plugs) and Asian aesthetic (flared legs, shallow arc).

(source: Stickley 21st Century Collection)

And this bench is a little too boxy, too squatty, we don't care for the inlay, and the photo was chosen mostly for the interesting options of how to structure the interior compartment. 

Finding Inspiration: The Mirror

From a design point of view we both agreed that the width of the bench should complement the width of the mirror hanging above it.  We prefer them to be physically separate pieces, but it's important to design them together, since they're going to be contributing parts of the same solution.

This mirror is too medieval, but it has hooks.  (source: Floating Stone Woodworks)

(source: www.lightinguniverse.com/)

And this mirror is juuuuust about perfect, except it doesn't have a shelf to put mail on, or hooks to hang keys from.  We'll use this mirror as our jumping off point in this design.

Build It Before You Build It

Sketchup.  Lots and lots of Sketchup.  We've been planning this project for over a year now.  The first 3D model I created for the bench mimicked the panel sides of the Stickley Blanket Chest, and my first attempt at guessing the joinery resulted in my typical over-complication.  After a visit to the showroom I came home and reworked the joinery a bit until I was satisfied.  

I then drew both the mirror and the bench to scale on pink resin paper, cut them out and taped them to the wall in the location they will eventually be placed.  This turned out to be well worth the time and effort.  We quickly realized that with the size bench we wanted, the panel sidewalls' 3/4" thick "legs" were too wimpy.  It made the whole bench look weak, cheap, and the 2" wide vertical stiles of the mirror seemed stronger by comparison.  Based on this observation we decided the bench needed solid leg construction instead of the frame and panel approach as represented by the Stickley Blanket Chest.

My first draft of the mirror was too tall.  Carolyn had the clever idea to cut the drawing in half, horizontally, so that I could slide the top half of the mirror down, thereby shrinking the height without adjusting the width, until we found the sweet spot.  A few adjustments of how high to hang it on the wall, holding a jacket up on the drawn hook to make sure there was enough elevation above the bench lid and we locked it down.

Now back to Sketchup.  Rebuild most of the bench because the proportions changed again due to the addition of 2"x2" legs, and adjust the vertical proportions of the mirror because we shortened it.

Here is the end result:

The Cut List

From this 3D model I'm able to generate a cut list of every component, organized by wood species and thickness.

A Little Warning About Cut Lists

Cut lists are helpful for calculating how much lumber you need to buy and help you organize your project (in your mind).  Whenever possible you should measure against the project itself for the simple reason that you may have slipped up at some point on one of your cuts, and a fraction of an inch can compound itself across an entire project.  If you cut all of your parts according to the dimensions on the cut list and never double-check your work against your actual results, you'll end up with parts that don't fit correctly come assembly time.  Here's a more wordy and/or better explanation by someone else.

Next post: The Search for A Better Lumber Mill

Wall Hanging Tool Cabinet

A Home for My Tools

I spent all that money on nice quality hand tools, and they're sitting on a shelf in my basement. The problem here is that dust sits on them. Dust contains salt which attracts water which rusts tools. So I need to build a cabinet to keep them cozy.

I had decided to make a wall hanging tool cabinet before I ever read The Anarchist's Tool Chest, and Schwarz's words in favor of floor chests didn't sway me. Even my wife agrees with me. Besides, it's a cramped space and I need all the floor space I can get. Wall space is in abundance.

I'm making the cabinet out of cherry and poplar (for the drawer sides, backs, and drawer webs). I milled it to width and thickness using power tools and I'm going to attempt to do the rest by hand -- wish me luck.

So far I've done a little smoothing with the hand planes (and it isn't going super great, but I'm learning).

There's a glue seam where I joined these boards together and all I wanted to do was flatten it out.  It turned into a 2 hour long aerobic workout.  This particular board ended up looking pretty good, though it's a little thinner than the original 3/4" I had planned.  The second board I tried had a few knots in it and I've since learned a few tricks to deal with grain tear out (again, credit goes to Schwarz).

Dealing with Tear Out

1. pick wood that's easier to plane
2. use a freshly sharpened plane blade
3. increase the blade angle
4. tighten the mouth opening
5. take lighter cuts
6. and don't skew the blade

I've been following She Works Wood as she builds her own hanging tool cabinet, and our cabinets are almost identical, with very few exceptions.  It's been really interesting to see how this project is going to play out by watching someone else do it first.