Fuming... (Oak, Not Mad)

Of the six boxes I currently have in progress, four of them are made with some of the reclaimed white oak I got from an old house on our family farm. Having been a while since I'd done any fuming, I thought I would take the opportunity to pull out my supply of Ammonium Hydroxide and make some chemical reactions happen.

Before I begin, I would like to offer a few words of caution...

Ammonium Hydroxide is a seriously dangerous chemical and should be handled with caution. As the warning on the bottle says, don't allow it, or the fumes, to come in contact with eyes or skin and don't ingest it. I'll add to those warnings that if you have any open cuts exposed to the air, you should make sure and cover them, as well.

I never work with ammonium hydroxide in a closed environment - always out on the patio or my driveway. I use full-coverage chemical-resistant eye goggles and a partial-face respirator rated for organic vapors (my mask uses 3M's 6001 filter). This is not the kind of respirator filter you will ever find at Home Depot or Lowe's (read the warning labels on the filters - they all specifically say they are not rated for organic vapors), though you can get them on-line easily enough. I happen to be married to a woman who has to have one just in case she is sent to a site for groundwater sampling that requires it, so... mine was free. I use the blue nitrile gloves because they are chemical resistant (and because I'm a cuticle biter and my fingers BURNED the first time I tried this without using nitrile gloves, hence the additional warning about cuts exposed to the air).

That said, woodworking is full of dangerous tools. If you don't take the time to become familiar with the tools you're using (whether they be mechanical or chemical), then you should fully expect to receive some time of injury at some point in your woodworking career. Have respect for and an understanding of your environment and you will decrease your chances of getting hurt. Now back to the blog...

My basic fuming setup is simple. I don't bother with wooden frame and plastic sheet tents. They're too easily damaged and something you don't want is a leak in your fuming tent.

Instead, I use an old Igloo chest cooler (which became obsolete after I purchased one of those wonderful 5-day coolers several years ago). It has an air-tight lid and is plenty big enough to fume several boxes at once.

It came with an open mesh basket that sits on a lip at the top of the cooler. I pour my ammonia into a plastic sour cream container, set it into the bottom of the cooler, and then turn the mesh basket upside down and place it over the container. That allows me to set boxes directly on top of the basket and not worry about tipping the container over.

I always fume several cutoffs from the same boards I used to make the boxes. These become test pieces for determining what finish I will use later on.

Once I get the ammonia inside and cover it with the basket, I place my boxes on top of the basket and lean my sample pieces against the side. Then I close it up tight, put a few pieces of painter's tape across the lid and tape a note on top that indicates I am fuming wood inside (to prevent me or my wife from accidentally opening the cooler). In order to get the best results, the container should be kept in a warm or hot environment. In the summer, nothing is hotter than my garage. Yesterday and today have been notably cool, so I was a bit concerned with how it would turn out.

It was, however, wasted emotional energy. As you can see, after 24 hours in the fuming tent the oak has darkened quite a bit. The wood in the lower part of the picture to the right is un-fumed white oak from the same board; in the middle are my sample pieces; at the top are my two boxes.

This image is also useful to point out how heartwood is affected by the ammonia much more than sapwood. Had I used sapwood in either of the two boxes I fumed (I specifically did not fume one of the four boxes based on a small amount of sapwood in one side), I would have some creative fixing to do with dyes and stain when I reached the finishing stage.

Before I do anything else with these boxes, I have to let them off-gas for at least 24 hours. After that, I'll work with my sample pieces to see what finish works best. I have some idea as to what I want to do, but I always test it out on sample pieces because each batch of wood can react differently to the ammonia. But generally, it involves a coat of BLO (boiled linseed oil) and a few light coats of amber or garnet shellac, depending upon how dark I want it to look in the end.

I will most likely spend some time with an inlay or two in these boxes, however, so I have some time before I worry about a finish.

Maybe while I'm in the fuming mood, I'll run some sample pieces for you to show you what other kinds of wood I've fumed and take pictures of what these woods look like fumed and un-fumed.

If you plan on trying to fume a woodworking project in the future and have any questions, let me know. I'll be happy to share whatever knowledge I have with you.

Working Together...

I've spent some time over the last two weeks working on some boxes. I have two at a "joinery completion" stage and four more with the pieces just dimensioned. One of the boxes has the intended purpose of holding my up-and-coming Christmas present - a custom set of four dovetail paring chisels from Blue Spruce Tool Works. They all have curly mahogany handles (wood supplied by me) that match the carbide burnisher owner Dave Jeske made for me a month or two ago. They arrived two weeks ago and Dana let me see them just long enough to take some measurements before she secreted them away for the next six months. We ordered them a bit early to take advantage of a 10% discount Dave was offering and to get one of his Blue Spruce Tool Works t-shirts for free.

(And by the way... isn't my wife just the greatest?)

The other boxes don't yet have specific buyers but they are all intended to hold sgian dubhs. Well, dimensionally they would all serve that purpose, anyway. I'm making them for two reasons, one of which I can't really divulge right now. But the other reason is simply because I want to have some boxes on hand that I can offer as "immediately available" so I don't always have to bust my butt with a custom box when someone contacts me and says they need a box in three weeks. I'll take some pictures and post them along with some of my design ideas as I get a little further along in the process later this week. I had an idea or two that coincided with the Guinness 250th Anniversary that I wanted to play around with...

They are all sliding lid boxes with rabbeted butt joints. From a design point of view, the joinery is relatively easy to cut on the table saw with a flat tooth rip blade. Some of that challenge is in making sure the saw cuts are accurate. Over the past few days, I've learned some tricks for making these cuts incredibly precise - all without using any measuring devices. Again, when I start on the joinery for the next four boxes, I'll take some pictures and share with you.

But what has me more excited than anything is how I've quite naturally started blending hand tools with power tools into a true power tool/hand tool hybrid shop - the two halves are now working together. For example, the other day when I was working on the sliding lid for the chisel storage box, I had a board that wasn't exactly thicknessed properly (it was the last board from a bunch of resawn lumber); it was just a bit thicker on one edge than it was on the other. Without a second thought, I went downstairs to the workbench, marked the board thickness on all the edges with my circular marking gauge, grabbed my #604 1/2, and started planing the slight high side down to size.

Later, when I needed to cut dados and rabbets on the edges of the lid so it would slide in and out of the grooves in the main part of the box, I pulled out my Record 043 plough plane instead of trying to make the cuts back on the table saw. Wow. That was more satisfying than planing a board flat! After just a minute or two of careful setup (and scoring a line on the cross-grain cut to prevent tear out), it was just a matter of planing until the blade stopped cutting.

Finally, when I was cutting the panel for the second sliding lid, I had a board with one side far, far from straight (it was a raw edge with bark on it) and the opposite edge ended up not being a terribly straight line, either. Again, I headed back downstairs to the workshop, put the board on edge in a vice, and took about 15 or 20 strokes with the #604 1/2 (it was too short for the #7) to make the not-so-straight-edge perfectly jointed.

A great benefit to using more hand tools is that I can plug in to my MP3 player and listen to some Grateful Dead or Cat Stevens or Jim Malcom while I'm working - certainly something that helps my creative juices flow.

I'm starting to approach every part of the project with the question, "How can I do this with hand tools?" It is very freeing. If you haven't yet tried it, I would highly recommend at least making an attempt at it the next time you find yourself in the shop.

The Rusling Box, Part Seven...

I had a bit of a rough day today, and it didn't have anything to do with the box. Occasionally I have migraines. Most of the time, I wake up with them. This morning was one of those times. It was bad enough that I stayed home from work to try and get rid of it - after two of my uber-expensive migraine pills, I finally got it under control.

So this afternoon, even though I still wasn't 100% after this morning, with just a disc to inlay, the finish to apply and the inside to complete, I was able to finish up the box.

The inlay is a brass disc made by Rab Gordon, proprietor of Rainnea Ltd and the maker of the dirk and sgian dubh going into this presentation box. It is a copy of the disc used for the pommel of the dirk and is Mr. Rusling's clan motto and shield/coat of arms. I received it in the mail just yesterday and immediately started fretting about how I was going to install it (cutting a perfect circle is not exactly what one would call "easy"). Fortune shined on me, though. The disc was just one millimeter under 2" in diameter. So I pulled out a 2" forstner bit, marked the center point of the diagonals on the bog oak in the lid, and drilled a shallow circle into the lid of the box. There was just the smallest amount of wiggle to it, but it won't move at all once I glue it in.

I enjoy the way wood looks when it is more natural. Although I do own stains and dyes and have something of a fondness for fuming with ammonia, I'm a much bigger fan of a few coats of a light shellac rubbed out with Renaissance wax. So I started that process with the first coat of the beige shellac I'd mixed up the other day.

While that was drying, I started on the internal divider. I usually make the divider out of the contrasting wood, but because this box is so long, I didn't have a piece of bog oak long enough, so I made it out of some slightly thinner white oak. Playing around a bit, I did a slight pillowing of the small tenon of the short piece. I rather like it; it makes me want to work on a Greene & Greene style box in the near future...

While the glue was drying on the divider and the shellac was drying on the box, I started on the inside liner. First I cut a piece of thick card stock to just a hair smaller than the inside of the box. Then I cut an over-sized piece of green (per Mr. Rusling's request) suede cloth and ironed it to smooth out the wrinkles. (Fabric Tip: Don't put the iron directly on suede cloth; it will melt. Place something over it, like a pillow case.) I sprayed one face of the card stock with 3M Adhesive Spray and pressed it onto the non-show side of the fabric, keeping a fairly even border on all sides. Then I took a ruler and a fabric cutting wheel and cut off the corners as shown.

Have you ever bought something without knowing just quite what you were going to use it for? Well, today I figured out a use for something I picked up at a garage sale last year. I'm not sure what made me grab it off the table, but as I was looking through some old Acme-thread C-clamps, I spied a small metal roller (probably from the printing industry, per the black ink residue on it). It had great heft to it because the roller is solid steel. Since I was buying four clamps, the guy threw the roller in for free. I brought it home and it found a place in the unorganized pseudo-shop.

I initially sprayed 3M Adhesive onto the back of the card stock to folded the fabric back up on it, but it was really messy and I quickly thought out a different method. I now use double-stick tape, instead. I can put it exactly where I want and it holds just fine. After I peeled off the first piece of tape backing, I was about ready to pull the fabric tight and press it down when I thought it would be useful if I had something to just roll it onto the tape. Then I remembered my steel printing roller and grabbed it. It worked like a charm!

At some point, I was able to get a second coat of shellac on the box. I've lost track of exactly when, though, per the multi-tasking and the migraine pills. After the shellac had dried for several hours, I rubbed the box and the divider out with some 320-grit stearated (non-load) sandpaper. Then I pulled out my can of Renaissance paste wax and started methodically rubbing out the finish. It's best to develop a routine for this so you don't miss any spots. I started with the inside of the base and worked my way around to the sides and then the bottom. Then I did the same thing with the lid and the divider.

Finally, I set the lining into the bottom. It slowly fell on a cushion of air, which tells me I had it cut perfectly to size. I don't ever attach the bottom with tape or glue. I figure if the owner wants to change it out for something else, they can easily pull it out and do so. It is held in place by the divider, which is a tight friction fit.

All that was left at that point was to put the hinges back on, screw in the lock, and attach the lock catch. I did find out the selvedge was mortised just a tad too deep, but I have a small bag of 5/16" diameter brass shims and one of those around each screw hole brought it up to the exact height I needed.

And then I pulled out the last items left in the bag the lock came in. Oh, boy. I'm actually supposed to hold this tack and hammer it at the same time? Thank God for a dad who is a doctor with a predilection for hemostats! I snagged a couple when I was at my parents' house last year, thinking they might come in handy. I put one of them to good use today!

Then I ran into another problem. The pins had rounded heads on them and when they were hammered in, I couldn't close the lid enough for the catch to engage the lock! So I tapped them in nice and tight with a nail set and a hammer and then filed them flush with a mill file. Issue resolved. Before I build another box with one of these locks, I'm going to go try and find some #1 screws. I didn't like the fact that one of the last things I was doing to this box involved hitting it with a hammer.

I had just a few more things left to do before I was done. I glued the brass disc into the lid (that took all of 20 seconds, and most of that was messing with getting the super glue gel out of the bottle). I then signed the bottom of the box and indicated what kinds of wood I used (Reclaimed Am. White Oak and Irish Bog Oak) in its construction.

As a final step, I went through our storge shelves until I found a box of stuff from my own wedding two years ago. I cut a small piece of Campbell tartan ribbon, trimmed the ends with a nice little "V" cut and tied it to the key. It didn't look quite as good as a bit of silk ribbon might have, but it doesn't look bad.

The Rusling Box, Part Six...

I spent several hours yesterday evening working on the box, but by the time I was done it was terribly late, so I didn't get a chance to write about it. It included a bit of frustration, anyway, so maybe it was better I didn't make a blog entry at that time.

With the hinges in, my next task was to mortise the lock. This was the first time I've mortised a lock, so I wanted it to be as simple a task as possible. To this end, I decided to pick up a new lock with an easier mortise. It cost a little more, but it also made me feel more comfortable and, at this point, that was more important for me. I'll still use the other lock, only I'll probably use it when I'm building a box without a deadline and I can take my time.

At some point, I'll figure out a good way to mortise the lock (probably taking care of this before I glue the box up would make it easier). For now, I have this Frankenstein's Monster-like setup. It had been so long since I'd set up my plunge router I was afraid I'd forgotten how! But it all came back to me quite quickly and I set the stops easily enough. In this picture, you can see one of my stops is the test piece I used to make sure my setup was good.

After I made the mortise for the hinge, I did the mortise for the selvdge, as well. Really, it was just a matter of going to a larger bit (5/16") and moving my stop blocks out a little. When I was done, I had a very well-fit full mortise lock for my box.

The next step was to cut the key hole for the lock. At first, I wanted to inlay a bog oak escutcheon into the front of the box, but after thinking about the time crunch, I decided to go with the included brass escutcheon. I measured once, twice, and three times before I drilled the first hole. Then I worked at the hole with small files to create the key shape. And after I got about this far in the process, I held the lock up to front of the box and just about spit nails! The hole I'd drilled was way too low! Not only that, but there was no way to cover the hole with the escutcheon.

So as late as it was, and as frustrated as I was, I decided to try and fix it before I went to bed. Turns out I got to try my idea of inlaying a bog oak escutcheon after all! I won't go into all of the inlay details as it was similar to the rectangle in the lid of the box. Here is the end result, before I cut the key hole. I think it looks rather smart and, seeing the end result, I'm glad I needed to do it.

(Editor's Note: Again with the pixilation issues! My camera doesn't like the grain in the white oak at certain angles, I guess.)

At this point, I decided to call it a night.

This evening, I picked up right where I'd left off. To start the key hole and drill the screw holes for the lock, I pulled out my Goodell-Pratt eggbeater drill and chucked in an appropriately-sized drill bit. This time I measured about seven times before I started my first hole. After filing and test fittings over and over, I had a bog oak escutcheon in the front of my box.

In order to easily place the lock catch in the right position, I fixed it into the lock, put the lock into the mortise, placed a piece of double-sided tape in the general position on the lid, and closed it tightly. When I opened the lid, the catch was stuck to it in the proper position. I used my Blue Spruce marking knife to mark its position and then chiseled out a shallow mortise.

I finished up the night by applying a coat of shellac to the inside of the box.

The Rusling Box, Part Five...

I had a doctor appointment right after work today, and then had to do the usual cooking and eating of supper, so I didn't get a chance to do some work on the box until later this evening. I honestly didn't get that much more done on it, unfortunately, as I finished up one thing and then ran into a problem.

I started off this evening by fitting the hinges to the mortises. In general, I find it easier to mark these by eye than to use a centering bit or some such method. The tool I use is an awl I picked up off of eBay a few years ago. The handle is Osage Orange or hedge apple. I mostly picked this wood to match the carving mallet I'd turned a few months before in that same year. It is comfortable to hold and does its job (marking screw holes) well.

After that was done, I took them over to my drill press and bored the holes. I'm always sure to err on the side of caution and I drill my pilot holes just a hair deeper to the inside of the box than I should. This pulls the hinge tight into the mortise. Aside from the fact that my drill press is a great old 1950's Rockwell I bought from the original owner, I didn't see much need in taking pictures of that part of the process. I can talk about my drill press later, if you really want to hear more about it. There is something puzzling about it, as the ID plate says the model number is 15-000 and when I called Delta/Rockwell to find out the manufacture information, they told me they had no such record of a 15-000 model number drill press. So I don't know if their records for this time period are incomplete or what, but I did find that interesting.

With the holes drilled (to pretty much the size of the screw and its threads), I inserted the screws without the hinges in to cut the threads in the holes and make sure inserting them later would be easier. A small chunk of paraffin wax helps to ease the screws into the holes. I usually like to drive the holes with a steel screw and then back it out and insert the brass one, but I couldn't seem to find my #6 steel screws this evening, so I had to skip that part.

After I ran the screws through the holes, I attached the hinges for a test fit. I was very pleased with the end result of using my new jig! That should make this part of the process go a lot faster in the future.

(Ed. Note: Looks like there is a slight pixilation issue with the image to the right; the line between lid and bottom is not at all jagged.)

Finally, I turned my attention to the lock. That is where I hit a snag. The description of the lock said it was 1/4" thick with a selvedge that was 5/16" wide.

They were right on both accounts. But what they failed to mention is that the top and bottom strike plates are NOT 5/16" wide; they are 3/8" wide!

So I didn't have a router bit that was the right size and couldn't get started on that part like I wanted to. I decided to mix up a batch of garnet shellac (which I'm periodically swirling as I write up my blogs) before I headed up for the night.

Dana is going out of town tomorrow, so I'll have much of the evening free for trying to make as much headway on the box as I can. Of course, before I go home tomorrow afternoon, I'll have to make a trip to Woodcraft to pick up another router bit.

The Rusling Box, Part Four...

After the miter keys had dried, I used a Japanese flush-cut saw to bring them to level with the sides of the box. I never realized how much I missed having a solid workbench to work off of as when I was trying to cut these keys with that saw. I can't wait to have everything back in order so I can start working on my new bench.

When the keys were all trimmed, my next step was to cut the lid free from the base of the box. I did this with the table saw and a small amount of painter's tape. First I cut the long edges, making sure the blade was raised higher than the thickness of the box. I used painter's tape on the cut line to minimize tear out. After the long edges are cut, I use shims to wedge the lid open and then tape up the sides around the shims. This prevents the edge from binding when I make the cuts to free the ends. At this point, I'll admit, the box does look something like a large turtle...

But after the tape and the shims were removed, I was left with a box that had a not-so-bad looking cut line. Of course, I still needed to use a block plane to clean up some of the saw marks, but that, followed by a little bit of sanding with the ROS 125, left a very clean cut line with just the right spacing between miter keys.

Over the years, I've tried a few other methods of cutting the lid free from the bottom, but this seems to work the best and leaves me with the least amount of clean-up work to do.

I was going to end the evening cutting the hinges and trying to mortise the lock, but, as previously mentioned, I got somewhat distracted with making a jig. Here is the culprit. It is simple in concept - a piece of MDF with a notch cut in it that exactly fits the part of the hinge I want to inlay and then two more smaller pieces of MDF acting as stops. The notch starts at 3 1/2" from the end, which is an appropriate distance for this size box. I wasn't quite as precise as I wanted to be with the opening, so I tightened it up with blue painter's tape. Then I ran packing tape across both faces of the board to make sure the router didn't get caught on anything as I was routing out the hinges. Next, I glued and screwed a small piece of MDF to the end of the face for the side of the box to reference. Finally, I glued and screwed another small piece to the edges of both boards for the front/back of the box to reference.

Now I had a jig to cut all four hinge mortises and was able to do so in just a matter of 20 minutes or so (including cleaning up the cuts with a sharp chisel). Because the jig is referencing the side and front of the box, and not a measurement from the center, I can use this on other boxes with similar dimensions. If I wanted to place the hinge closer to the edge of the box, I could always place spacers between the box and the side of the jig, but I'll probably end up making a jig for smaller boxes. I marked the brand and model number of hinge this jig uses so I'll know which jig to use with which hinge if I do get around to making more.

I ran out of time at this point and didn't have time to work on the lock. But, as luck would have it, I didn't have the right tools for that job yet, anyway...

The Rusling Box, Part Three...

Previously, on Lost...

Sorry, wrong beginning.

When we last left the latest dirk box, I'd just finished the glue-up and checked for square. I let it sit overnight and half of today before doing anything else with it.

In the mean time, Dana and I went on our birdwatching hike at Babler State Park this morning. We almost canceled per the rain, but I suggested we tough it out and see if the rain lets up. Sure enough, about 20 minutes into the hike the rain let up and we could put our umbrellas away and concentrate on birds. Won't go into minute detail here, but we did see some cool things, including a barred owl (who-who-who-cooks-for-you-all is the call they make; I hear one almost every afternoon and night here in St. Peters).

Fast-forward to this afternoon, when we finally got back home from birdwatching and running errands...

After the glue-up, the next step is to cut the slots for the miter keys. They are best cut with a rip blade on the table saw, which has a flat tooth and thus leaves a flat bottom. That makes for little or no gap after the key has been glued it and trimmed flush.

I usually leave my blue painter's tape on the corners when I'm cutting the miter key slots. It reduces tear-out and it also provides a place for me to figure out where I want to put my miter keys via test marks. I decided on trying to evenly space them out, with the top key being a half inch from the top edge, the middle key being one inch down (after calculating waste for cutting the top off the box), and then the bottom key being one more inch down and ending up just a half inch from the bottom of the box. I'm very OCD like that with some things...

Here is my jig for cutting the slots for the miter keys. It is just a piece of 1/8" hardboard, a piece of 2x4 I cut at 45 degrees and then laid out flat, and a piece of oak to ride along the tablesaw fence. I'm probably going to rethink this jig in the near future and create one that rides in the miter slots on my table saw. That way, it will always cut in the same spot and I can adjust the position of the slots with stop blocks to cut the grooves in the different locations. For now, this jig works just fine, but I did notice today that I'm starting to really tear into the right side of it.

When I was resawing my lid inlay piece at Vic's, I also took the time (seriously, like a whole three more minutes) to resaw some more bog oak into 1/8" thick strips for my miter keys. They are actually more like 3/16" thick, but I'll have to sand them a bit to remove the bandsaw marks. After throwing a 60 grit disc on my Festool ROS 125, it didn't take but a few seconds on each side to get them flat and at just about the proper thickness.

To make sure each key sits tight against the back of the slot, I have to joint the edges of the bog oak strips. I found out several boxes ago that the easiest way to do this is to turn my #5 upside down on the bench and run the strip of wood over the sole of the plane, sort of like a mini-jointer. Here you can see the small shavings starting to gather under the plane. It doesn't take very long with a sharp edge and a steady hand.

Bog oak is not cheap, so I'm quite frugal with it. I joint both long edges of the strips because of the method I use for cutting my keys. I fit a part of the strip into a slot, mark a triangle a little larger than what I'll need, cut the triangle out, then flip the strip over for the next slot.

I've found that even though I cut all of the miter key slots at the same time and with the same blade at the same setting that they aren't always exactly the same thickness. So I individually fit, cut, and mark a key for each slot. If I end up with some wood that is too thin, I set it aside for a future box. If the strip is just a hair too thick, I'll pound it a bit with my warrington hammer (on the right in this photo) to get the right fit. Marks on the bog oak are made with the white artist's pencil.

After all of the keys are cut, I'll grab a plastic lid from the recycle bin, put a bit of glue on it, tape up an acid brush, and start applying glue to both faces and the back edge of each miter key and press it into place. This generally goes quite smoothly, although I occasionally end up with a miter key that is a little too thick after it starts swelling from the glue. If it sticks while I'm trying to put it in, a few taps of the warrington is usually enough to coax it into place. When I'm done, the lid goes back into the recycle bin (that, my friends, is called "reuse"and "recycle").

I'll let these miter keys set up over-night and trim them flush tomorrow after church. Then I'll sand the outside of the box, cut the lid free from the top, and start working on hinges and the lock. I originally wanted to try a brass push-button lock from Lee Valley, but after looking at the required wood thickness, I now know I'm not going to be able to make that work. I need to use at least 3/4" thick wood for that mechanism and my box sides are only 1/2".

Fortunately, I usually plan for things like this and ordered a mortised lock set from Lee Valley last week. It shouldn't be too difficult to install. It comes with a brass escuschion, but I'm thinking about making my own out of bog oak. If I have the time, that's what I'd like to do, anyway...

Look for more tomorrow night!

Woodworking as a math equation...

No shop + Short Deadline = Intense Pressure

As luck would have it, just about the same time I totally dismantled my temporary shop setup in order to start working on building the more permanent one, I received an email from someone who wanted me to make a box for them. I didn't have a whole lot of information other than what the box needed to hold (a dirk and a sgian dubh) and the deadline wouldn't be far off.

Aside from the fact that I could certainly use the extra money for shop construction, I was drawn to the idea of making my first dirk and sgian dubh combination presentation box. So with less than one month to completion date, I accepted the job.

Fortunately for me, I do some of my best work under intense pressure.

After a few days of e-mails back and forth, the buyer and I finally agreed upon some specifics (reclaimed white oak box with Irish bog oak accents, bog oak and brass inlay, and a closure method I've yet to determine - either a full-mortise lock or a push-button lock). I worked out most of the design ideas, milled my lumber to approximate dimensions, and am now ready to start turning wood into something functional.

I have a dentist appointment tomorrow morning and an eye doctor appointment tomorrow afternoon, so I'm just going to take the whole day off from work. That will give me a few undisturbed hours in the middle of the day where I can knock out the first five or six steps to making the box in one go. I've found that once I get the initial construction started, the rest seems to fall in place.

As much as I'd rather use as few power tools and as many hand tools as possible, with the mess I have in the basement, I'm afraid most of my hand tools are not conveniently accessible so many of my cuts will be on the table saw. I will be doing some block planing on a 2:1 champher I'm putting on the lid and there's always a fair amount of tablesaw cleanup I can still do with my bullnose plane and scrapers and chisels and whatever else it needs.

I have received several requests for step-by-steps on one of my boxes, so my goal with this one is to document it as best I can. I have the camera batteries charged and ready to go, so we'll see how well I do at photo documentation...

Oh, and I'm also excited about making this box because I've solved an issue I had with fuming my boxes with anhydrous ammonia (it had to do with the lining and whether or not I could fume a box with the lining in place), so I'm going to fume this one as part of the finishing process. It's a technique I take severe precautions with, but I enjoy the end results.

It's About Bloody Time!

Does it ever seem like you just can't find the time to do the things you REALLY want to do? Between the regular job and the part-time job and getting ready for Christmas and trying to take care of all the house chores, it seems like I haven't done any woodworking in forever!

But over the past few weeks, I've been able to sneak into the shop (and garage, since the "shop" doesn't really exist yet and I'm using the space in the basement where the previous owner had his shop situated) to work on some Christmas presents. One of them is a present for someone on my wife's side of the family, so I can't really talk about it yet (per some of them read my blog...). I'll be sure to post some pictures of that post-Christ's Birthday. The other is for a guy in Alabama who was directed to me, either by searching and finding my old website or through an acquaintance in Scotland who has directed people my way before. He wanted me to make a sgian dubh box for someone for a Christmas present (I suspect his father).

It was a bit short notice, but I figured I'd be able to fit it in, since I would already be making something for the aforementioned family member and it's easier to work on two projects at once when you have all the tools out and the shop-time motivation going at full steam.

I struggle with in-process photos and for that I do apologize. Even if I remember to bring the camera into the shop with me, I usually forget to pull it out until after I've completed most of the process. I do, however, usually get a few shots off before I send the box to the new owner.

This latest project was a sgian dubh presentation box for a Rab Gordon sgian dubh. The completion of this box makes it my third Rab Gordon sgian dubh presentation box and I always look forward to the next one!

Lately, I've been trying to do what I call "recycled" woodworking. All of the wood in this box was reclaimed from other sources. The white oak sides, bottom, and lid are all 100 year old sheathing from an old house my brother and I dismantled on the family farm. A friend of mine dimensions it for me, which he doesn't mind doing because this wood was found between the framing and the clapboard siding and thus protected from the elements. Before it is cleaned up, it really just looks like old wood - no graying or weathering of any kind.

The other wood I used in this box is reclaimed bog oak from England. This wood comes from Roman-period Londinium (present day London). It is oak that was used by the Romans to make piers along the Thames river. Since then, the river has shifted course by several hundred yards and the wood was preserved in a bog-like atmosphere. The tanic acids in the oak react with the chemicals in the oxygen-poor bog and preserve the wood while turning it a wonderful dark black.

It is hard to come by and expensive to ship over from England and Ireland, so I use it sparingly. In this case, I used it in the mitered keys and the lid lift. I would have liked to inlay some into the lid, but I just ran out of time.

Although I use some power tools for things like dimensioning the wood and cutting the grooves for lid and bottom, I used hand tools for fitting the hinges (Brusso butt hinges with 95 degree stops) and the lid lift. I recently picked up a Record 043 and a Record 044 plough plane, so in the future I'd like to cut the grooves by hand, as well. I just haven't had time to get the blades sharpened up and play around with them a bit to make sure I'm good with the techniques. You don't want to practice that on a time-limited project!

But I did try out something new I've wanted to do for a while. The sgian dubh is the small knife worn in the kilt hose, generally going along with a full kilted outfit. I usually line my boxes with suede cloth or green felt or some such thing, but recently I thought of lining them (especially when they are sgian dubh presentation boxes) with tartan material! This ties in well with the Scottish theme.

So I contacted Kathy Lare, a kilt maker living in New Mexico, and asked her if I could purchase several larger swatches of Universal tartans (tartans that can be worn by anyone without much contention, like Pride of Scotland, Royal Stewart, Irish National or Caledonia). She agreed and ended up sending me a generous amount of tartan that should keep me happy for a while.

I told the good doctor ordering this last box about my idea and asked if he would be interested in having a tartan lining. I indicated what I had available, but had a last-minute epiphany and also suggested if he had some of his own family tartan laying about that I could use that, instead!

He said he would be able to get some of his family tartan and forward it on to me tout suit!

Though I wish I'd had a bit more time to work on some additional features, like an inlay of some type in the lid, I'm quite pleased with the end result. Plus, it felt REALLY good to get back in the shop, even the freezing cold periods of working in the garage.