Harrisburg Artsfest

The Harrisburg Artsfest is a 3 day-long juried craftshow during Memorial Day weekend and along the Susquehanna Riverfront. The artwork includes pottery, painting, photography, metalwork, jewelry, fabric arts, leather, stonework, knives, brooms, and of course, woodworking.

I spoke with 3 of the woodworkers who were, as I have found most woodworkers to be, friendly people who generously share their knowledge with you.

June Burns, along with her husband, Tony, own Peachie Originals. They collect and use antique scroll saws to create puzzles for children. They also have written 3 books showcasing some of their original designs and how to make them. June was demonstrating with an 1860s treadle scroll saw which is powered by one foot that pumps a pedal. She switched feet while we were talking, because her one foot had run out of gas. During the show, June cut out little shapes to give away and in 3 seconds, she had scrolled a shamrock for me.

Steve Strouse makes Shaker oval boxes in various hardwoods including cherry, walnut, maple, elm, and lacewood, among others. He uses only locally-salvaged wood that comes from storm damaged trees, tree care services, and logs that would otherwise end up in a landfill, including one 143 year old Sugar Maple that had been removed from the county courthouse. On his website, Steve provides photos of his work, lumber preparation, workshop, and young daughter who helps him sand the inside of his oval boxes.

Maker of treenware, Bob DeWitt, of DeWitt's Spoons & Bowls, showed me how he uses a jig clamped in a vise to secure rough-shaped spoons while he uses a drawknife for final shaping. A board with a carved, shallow recess hangs on his chest and effectively wedges the spoon between the jig and himself. Bob uses gouges, a bent knife, and drawknives to shape his bowls and spoons, and upon completion, soaks the projects in water for days in order to raise the grain, sands them with 600 grit sandpaper, and applies mineral oil and beeswax. Finishing his pieces this way creates a burnished-type surface on which water pools rather than soaks into the wood.

Every year, the Artsfest is an impressive gathering of talented people whose attention to detail and love of their craft is evident in their work.














So, what did I buy at the show?
Hey, what's a woodworker without a little bling?






Peachie Originals: (716) 679-4766

Strouse Woodworking: (814) 353-1901

DeWitt's Spoons & Bowls: (814) 842-6042

Sticky Shim

Thanks to a comment by Gary Roberts, there is a blog post today. Gary asked in my last post why I hadn't, instead of removing the bulk of the waste from the lap joint with a chisel, used a rabbet (rebate) plane instead.

According to Gary, "skewed rabbet planes were used for hogging cross grain material, particularly the wider width planes. The large mouth, curved escapement served to allow the coarse cross grain material to be ejected without clogging the plane. The outline of the lap was sawn to the line, the waste was hogged with the rabbet plane and finished up with a chisel or if narrow, with a router."

Suggesting that I use a handplane for a particular joint is like setting a plate of doughnuts in front of Homer Simpson—way too tempting. I love using handplanes.

Since I don't have a skewed rabbet plane, I dusted off my #78 and took a few passes within the layout lines of an untouched lap joint. Handplaning is a mesmerizing experience for me and sometimes I shave more than I should. In my state of handplaning delirium, I completely forgot about leaving a section in the middle of the waste area to support the router plane in final clean up. By the time I realized what I had done, the center section was 1/32" lower than the surface of the workpiece, which would result in sloppy joint with a scalloped bed.

Nothing that a little tape can't solve. 4 layers of masking tape, burnished flat, equals 1/32". It supported my router very well but did get a little chewed up toward the final passes.

Still, a sticky shim saved me from a sticky wicket.

Handcut Lap Joint

Cutting lap joints by hand takes a little while if you are as slow as I am. To cut just one half of a lap joint took me....well, let's just say that if I were to charge $30/hour for my time, this joint alone would cost $5 million.

There are a number of ways to cut this joint, and other ways to speed up the process, but here is one way to do it:

Layout the cut with a bevel-edged pencil, marking knife or exacto blade. Use a chisel to define the shoulder. Handsaw kerfs within the waste area. The more kerfs you saw, the easier it is to chip out the waste. My kerf marks are rather far apart because I get tired pretty quickly with handsawing. Use a beefy chisel to chip out the majority of waste then clean up the bed with a router plane or paring chisel. Because this is a wide lap joint, remove the waste from only half of the joint at a time and leave a section of wood in the middle to support your router plane as you clean up the bed. Remove the center waste section with a chisel and/or plane.

Now it's onto the next one!

In Defense of Cheap Tools

As I continued to remove the bandsaw marks on the sawbuck table legs, I reached for a chisel to clean up the deepest crease in the profile. But not just any chisel. My FIRST chisel.

It was purchased 16 years ago at a big box store for a few bucks—ugly, yellow, too-short plastic handle and all. I knew almost nothing about woodworking back then and had no idea what made one chisel better than another. I just knew I could afford this one and hey, it has a cutting edge, doesn’t it?

16 years later, this 3/4” Stanley Workmaster® proudly occupies the #1 slot in my chisel rack. It might not hold an edge as long as my Japanese chisels or be as pretty and as well-balanced as my German chisels, but it’s a real workhorse, sharpens quickly and cuts cleanly. And it reminds me that I don’t have to buy the most expensive tools to get good results.

Bottom right is a photo of the first plane, block or otherwise, I ever purchased. I think it cost $10 at the big box store. Knowing nothing about planes at the time, I bought it thinking hey, it has a cutting edge, doesn't it?

It took me a while to learn how to sharpen it properly, but it does indeed cut.

A few years ago, our woodworking club hosted a used tool sale where I offered to the sell this plane for $2. No takers.

And lucky for me! I brought it home and, not having used it in years, took a swipe on some wood. Nice clean shaving. The mouth is fixed too wide for a fine, thin shaving, but still, it cuts perfectly.

So, how do I employ this plane? It accompanies me every time I visit MLFKAG (My Lumberyard Formerly Known As Garage) which houses stacks of rough cut lumber that I bought at various auctions. Often the wood is so rough or so old, I can’t tell what species it is. A few passes, and the plane quickly exposes the grain beneath the rough surface. I’ll never try to sell you again, little guy.

Mind the Arc

I built this cabinet in 2005, and last year I noticed that the gap in between the two doors was no longer as even as they had been (they were never perfect, but close). The top of the gap was a little thinner than the bottom. Or so it seemed. I ignored it at first, chalking it up to sloppy construction. But it got worse. After a few days, the gap at the top was less than a 1/8" and the gap at the bottom was 3/8".

(insert little girl scream)

Here's what happened. When I built the carcase, I didn't pay attention to the arc of the endgrain. The second photo, taken from beneath the cabinet, shows the endgrain (on the tails). You can see that the crown of the arc is arching away from the carcase . What happens with a flatsawn board like this is the grain essentially wants to straighten itself out. So, the last tail in between the carcase and the door started to pull away from the last pin, effectively taking the bottom of the door with it. What I thought was an indestructible joint was failing...badly.

So I added glue, clamped it up, and drove a screw through the pin.

A better way to build a carcase or box is to orient the crown of the arcs toward the box. So, when the grain tries to straighten itself out, the pressure will be into rather than away from the joints.

I haven't had the nerve to check the other side of the carcase, but if it does happen to the other board, I'll know not to hyperventilate.

Shaping the Legs

To shape the legs for the sawbuck table, I first traced the profile onto the leg blanks using the cardboard template. Then I transferred the profile to the other side of the leg. With the profile marked on both sides, you can check back and forth as you're shaping to ensure that the profile is square.









I roughed out the shape on the band saw and then cleaned up the cuts with round files, triangular files, smooth files, a Nicholson #50 rasp, a Lee Valley rounded spokeshave, and sandpaper.

The shaped leg in the last photo is sitting on top of what's left of the cherry that is being used to make this project.

Sawbuck Table: Part I

In my shop, a 9/4 x 12" x 11' piece of curly cherry has been patiently waiting to become a PA German Sawbuck Table, like the one I found at the Landis Valley Museum. I was not able to photograph the original very well because it was behind glass, but the photos still came in handy. From a page in a book, I knew the height, width, and length of the original. And from the front-on shot that I took, I figured out rough dimensions for the various parts with the help of a proportion wheel.

This project involves fun little details, like sliding dovetails, tusk tenons, an angled drawer, lettercarving, turned spindles, and baroque sawbuck legs.

Trying to determine the angle of the legs was a monumental dilemma for a right-brained person who wouldn't know the Pythagorean Theorem from a Pierogie. So, here's what I did—I laid tape on the floor and marked corners of a rectangle that matched the height and width of the table (minus the table top). Then I criss-crossed two pieces of 5" wide cardboard within, but longer than, that rectangle; laid a straight edge from one top corner of the rectangle to the other top corner; and drew a line across the tops of the cardboard. Then I did the same at the bottom of the rectangle. This gave me the angles at which the legs needed to be cut. I eyeballed the baroque shape from the photos, sketched it freehand, and cut the pattern.

After all four legs were cut to length, I had to figure out where to cut the half lap. The cardboard template wasn't reliable enough for marking the critical joint. So, I clamped two legs together, marked the middle, drilled a hole through the top leg and half way through the second leg, pegged them with a dowel, and scissored them apart. Now I had to figure out how far apart to splay them so that the legs would support the table top and also rest squarely on the floor. So I clamped a straight board to my assembly table (representing the table top), slid the legs against it until both ends laid flat against the board, then slid another flat board against the opposite ends of the legs (representing the floor). This showed exactly where to mark the half laps.

There you have it—the right-brained person's guide to figuring out angles.

My New Workbench

No doubt Chris Schwarz will want to include plans for this natural-edged workbench in the updated, revised version of his book, Workbenches: From Design & Theory to Construction & Use.*

In the interim, here are detailed instructions on how to build one:

1. Keep an eye on the neighbor lady’s tree that’s about to be toppled.
2. After the tree has been felled and sawn, casually walk your dogs by her house to inspect the logs.
3. Just “happen by” as her strapping young son-in-law is chopping up the logs for firewood and inquire about the largest part of the trunk.
4. Be nice, and the strapping young son-in-law just might wheel your new workbench home for you on a dolly.

Why the new workbench? Because I found Robin Wood’s website. Robin is a woodturner and maker of treenware. On his site, he posts video tutorials on how he makes his spoons, while sitting in his living room, and using a tree stump as a work surface. What fun! To start with a log, use an axe to rough out the shape, and finish with carving tools and knives is something I’ve always wanted to try.

I have only made one kitchen utensil, a pasta rake, which works surprisingly well. It’s made of cherry and is finished with olive oil. There is something “right” about using wooden utensils and I can’t wait to use my new workbench to make more. I just need to find another neighbor who is planning to cut down a tree so I can “happen upon” some logs.

*If you have not read Chris’ book and are thinking of building a new or upgrading an existing workbench (or are just looking for a fantastic read), do yourself a favor and purchase a copy. His book is replete with valuable information on building workbenches, choosing lumber, making bench jigs, and the whys and hows that aren’t found in other workbench books.