Popular Woodworking Magazine

Several readers have asked what the differences are among the Kenyon saw that showed up at Woodworking in America, the Gramercy dovetail saw and the Lie-Nielsen dovetail saw. In what I promise is my last post about saws this week, here are some observations.

1. Weight. The Kenyon saw (the bottom saw in the photo) weighs 7.8 ounces. The Gramercy (the top saw in the photo) weighs 6.2 oz. The Lie-Nielsen comes in at 11 oz. Can you feel the difference? You bet. Does it matter? That's your call. I can cut good joints with a lightweight saw and a heavy one. And so can you.

2. Handle. This difference is important to me. All three saw handles are about the same thickness (Gramercy: .88". Kenyon: .86". Lie-Nielsen: .89"). But they definitely feel different. To my hand, the Gramercy feels the smallest and has the most open space. It is .9" at its narrowest point on the handle. The Kenyon saw fits my hand extraordinarily well, like a driving glove. It is 1.13" at its narrowest point. The Lie-Nielsen is between the two. It's not as open as the Gramercy, but it is a tad more open than the Kenyon. It is 1.23" at its narrowest point.

3. The brass back. The Gramercy's is the smallest at ½" wide. The Kenyon is a bit wider at 5/8". The Lie-Nielsen is widest at ¾". The back adds weight, so these statistics should come as no surprise.

4. Blade thickness. The Gramercy is .018". The Kenyon is .017". The Lie-Nielsen is .02". These are all workable thicknesses for a dovetail saw.

5. Point per inch. The Gramercy is 18 ppi. The Kenyon is 20 or 21 ppi (the teeth are fairly boogered up). The stock Lie-Nielsen is 15 ppi. In my book, that means the Gramercy and Kenyon saws are tuned for thinner stock, such as drawers. The Lie-Nielsen is tuned more for carcase work. But you can use either kind of saw for either operation.

What does all this mean? The Kenyon saw is a little different than these two other commercial saws. And so when Mike Wenzloff starts making them, it will be another good choice for your short list.

— Christopher Schwarz

Looking for More Woodworking Information?
• Sign up for our newsletters to get free plans, techniques and reviews HERE.
• Looking for free articles from Woodworking Magazine? Click HERE.
• Like hand tools? Read all our online articles on hand work HERE.
• Want to subscribe to Woodworking Magazine? It's $19.96/year. Click HERE.

Good news for those of you who went wild with lust over liked the early Kenyon dovetail saw featured earlier this week. Saw maker Mike Wenzloff says he will manufacture very close copies of this valuable and rare saw for sale during the next few weeks.

The saw surfaced at our Woodworking in America conference in Berea, Ky., when an attendee brought it in and asked Wenzloff if he could sharpen it or replace the blade. People went nuts.

Tool historians in the crowd estimated the saw, which the attendee purchased for $35, was circa 1770. Saws from the 18th century are rare. And dovetail saws from this period are even less common. So Wenzloff took a bunch of measurements off the saw and is about to start making the tool at the same time he makes a batch of sash and tenons saws from the same era.

The dovetail saw will be available directly from Wenzloff & Sons for $140. You can order one by e-mailing Wenzloff directly.

Wenzloff says he's going to make his saw as close as possible to the original. I measured the thickness of the sawplate of the original at .017" thick; Wenzloff's will be .018" thick. The brass back will be essentially the same thickness. Wenzloff said he's going to alter the usable depth at the toe a bit because the blade in the original had shifted a bit. The saw will be 20 ppi, which is just about the pitch of the original (which was hard to measure).

The saw is even going to be stamped like the original with "Kenyon," "Spring" and London" stamped into the spine. On the original saw, the word "Kenyon" is upside down.

"(I) wonder how many I will produce with an upside down portion," Wenzloff wrote in an e-mail.

I hope he'll stamp all of them wrong. It seems the right thing to do.

— Christopher Schwarz

Looking for More Woodworking Information?
• Sign up for our newsletters to get free plans, techniques and reviews HERE.
• Looking for free articles from Woodworking Magazine? Click HERE.
• Like hand tools? Read all our online articles on hand work HERE.
• Want to subscribe to Woodworking Magazine? It's $19.96/year. Click HERE.

During the Woodworking in America conference, I moderated a discussion on saws between toolmakers Mike Wenzloff, from Wenzloff & Sons, and Joel Moskowitz, from Tools for Working Wood.

Both men are knowledgeable and have firm opinions about the topic of saws. The discussion was spirited and at some points contentious, though no blood was drawn. It took a long time for the three of us to navigate the technical details of the shape of sawteeth, and so we didn't get to spend much time discussing what saws you need to build furniture. Several attendees approached me after the session for guidance, and so I decided to share it with everyone here on the blog.

Earlier this year I wrote an entry that explains my personal set of saws (check it out here) and their configurations. This is a good place to start.

Number of Teeth
In general, when I choose a saw I try to match the number of teeth on the saw (called the pitch) to the thickness of my work. With backless saws, such as handsaws and rip saws, I aim to keep six or seven teeth buried in the wood at all times. With backsaws (such as dovetail and carcase saws) I aim to keep 10 teeth buried in the wood at all times.

Here's an example of how this works. If I have a 3/4"-thick carcase to dovetail, I'm going to pick a 15-points-per-inch (ppi) saw. But if I am dovetailing a 1/2"-thick drawer side, I'm going to reach for something finer, such as an 18-point or 20-point saw.

Either saw will work for carcasses or drawers, it's more a matter of what will work better. You don't have to own two dovetail saws. Just pick the one that suits the style of work you do. (Note that these rules don't apply to Japanese saws because they have deeper gullets that don't fill with sawdust.)

And note that there are practical limits. Few tenon saws come coarser than 10 ppi, but sometimes you have to saw a 2"-wide tenon cheek. A 5-point tenon saw would be a bear to start. So be flexible.

Kinds of Saws and What Order to Buy Them In
If you build typical furniture – cabinets, chairs, tables and chests – the following list of saws is meaningful. If you build smaller stuff (jewelry boxes) or bigger stuff (huge armoires), you are going to have to adjust. But I think this is a good list.

Carcase Saw
Typical blade length: 10" to 14"
Points: 12 to 14 ppi
Type of filing: Crosscut
I think this is a great saw to purchase first. It is easy to start and control, and it is useful for all sorts of crosscuts with a bench hook. Practicing with this saw will prepare you for the more challenging backsaws. What length should you choose? As with all saws, I think longer saws make straighter cuts, but they can be harder for beginners to control. My favorite is 14" long. I'm not worked up about the ppi. I see little difference between 12 ppi and 14 ppi.

Dovetail Saw
Length: 6" to 10"
Points: 14 ppi to 21 ppi
Type of filing: Rip
No matter what I write you'll buy a dovetail saw as soon as possible. We all want to cut dovetails. So go ahead. The smaller dovetail saws generally have finer teeth so the length isn't as issue as much as the ppi. Choose a ppi that matches what you like to do. Do you build lots of drawers? Get a finer saw (18 to 20 ppi). Like blanket chests? Get something in the 15 ppi neighborhood. What about the "progressive-pitch" saws, where the teeth are finer at the toe and coarser at the heel? I like them, but it took me a bit of time to acquire a taste for them. If you can try one before you buy it, that's ideal.

Tenon Saw
Length: 16" to 20"
Points: 10 ppi to 11 ppi
Type of filing: Rip
I'm using the specifications for an old-style tenon saw. Usually they don't come this big anymore, except for one made by Wenzloff & Sons. I like a big tenon saw (19"), but I seem to like bigger saws in general. When I teach sawing, my students are split: Half like the bigger saw for cutting tenon cheeks; the other half like a smaller sash saw instead.

Sash Saw (aka a Modern Tenon Saw)
Length: 14" to 16"
Points: 10 ppi is typical
Type of filing: Rip or Crosscut is available
The name "sash saw" has disappeared from most catalogs, but the form lives on as a "tenon saw" or a "crosscut tenon saw." I like a rip-filed tenon/sash saw because cutting the cheeks is a rip operation. Some people choose a crosscut sash saw in place of a crosscut carcase saw because they like big saws or have larger-scale work to do. As you can see, this is where it gets complex. You don't need both a rip tenon saw and a rip sash saw (though you are free to get both). Choose one that suits you. I like a 14" sash saw no matter what the filing. Go figure.

Handsaw
Length: 22" to 26"
Points: 5 ppi to 12 ppi
Type of filing: Crosscut
These backless saws are used to break down rough stock before you process it and to cut larger components to size before you shoot them to their final lengths. I like a 7 ppi saw (they're as common as dirt). Choose a shorter saw if it matches your stature or if you work on top of a workbench. Choose a longer saw if you are taller (I like 26") or if you work on a sawbench (an 18"-high platform designed for sawing). I think these saws are great because they give you lots of sawing practice, which pays off big when you cut dovetails. Usually the saws shorter than 26" are called panel saws.

Ripsaw
Length: 22" to 26"
Points: 3-1/2" ppi to 5 ppi
Type of filing: Rip
I don't use a ripsaw all that much (see the dust on the sawplate?). Honestly, I prefer a powered band saw. Long rip cuts are a lot like work. I'd get a ripsaw only if you are deep into the purity of hand work or you have kids sleeping upstairs.

I hope this has helped some of you at the conference. If you didn't like the session, I apologize. We'll do better next time.

— Christopher Schwarz

As the Woodworking in America conference wound down on Sunday, I dashed out the door with Louis Bois to fetch a six pack of beer he had chilling in his rental car. As my hand touched the exit I heard a voice call my name.

I waved back to the guy. The reply was not what I expected.

“I have something that you have to see.”

I stopped for a second and then plunged into the cold with Louis, who draws the technical illustrations for Woodworking Magazine. Louis had brought me a box of lager from Canada, and after he put the beer in my hands I returned to the conference to investigate.

The guy was standing at the front desk, empty-handed.

“It’s on the copier,” he said. “Just a minute.”

What came off the copier left me speechless: An early English dovetail saw that looks much like the 18th-century dovetail saw from the famous tool chest of Benjamin Seaton.

The saw had a brass back stamped both “Kenyon Spring” and “London” – just like the Seaton saw. A close inspection revealed some differences between this saw and the one featured in “The Tool Chest of Benjamin Seaton.” The Seaton saw is listed as 9” long. This saw has a blade that is 8-3/16” long. The brass back is 7-3/4” long.

The blade is 1” wide under the toe and 1-3/8” wide where the tote begins. The saw is filed at 21 points per inch (the Seaton saw is listed as 19 points). The teeth are filed for ripping. I measured the sawplate at several places and almost every spot was at .017" thick -- very similar to the Seaton saw. That's thinner than modern dovetail saws

The handle is a little different than the Seaton saw. On the section of the tote that overlaps the blade, the wood comes to a point on the Seaton saw. On this saw that area is more rounded.

But all in all, the saws are strikingly familiar.

However, what’s more striking is the story of how the saw arrived at the conference. Its owner is an auctioneer who likes to collect vintage tools. One day he and his wife were in an antique store just browsing around when he spied this Kenyon saw.

He liked the look of it, but he didn’t like the price. The blade was warped a little at the toothline. He figured that if he could get the saw for a little less he could find someone like saw sharpening savant Tom Law to replace the rusty blade with a new one so he could use it.

He hemmed and hawed but his wife finally encouraged him to take it up to the counter to negotiate.

“I tried and tried,” he said. “But they just wouldn’t come off their price of $35.”

He bought the saw anyway and put it aside. He had no idea the saw was anything special until he brought it to the Woodworking in America conference in Berea, Ky. When he took the saw out to show it to someone, the attendees went nuts. People began photographing the thing, taking measurements, and generally just gaping at it in awe.

Sawmaker Mike Wenzloff vowed to make a copy. So they stuck the thing on a photocopier to make images of the saw’s shape. And that’s when I walked in.

After staring at the saw for a while I looked up at the auctioneer and just grinned. And that’s when he pulled out a tool that was even more rare from one of his old gym socks.

We’ll save that story for another day.

— Christopher Schwarz

P.S. You can download a full-size scan of the saw in pdf format by clicking on the link below.

Kenyon_DT.pdf (3.8 MB)

The handplaning jigs are packed and ready to load on the truck Thursday morning.

Only one more restless night in bed, and I'll be headed down to our Woodworking in America conference in Berea, Ky. The entire staff of the magazine is looking forward to the show, but we also know that we're in for a wild ride.

We've never put on a conference before, and we know expectations are high. And despite all the preparation we've done since March, we know we've made a few mistakes along the way. Thank you for all your patience.

For me, the most exciting thing about the conference is getting to meet all of the speakers and the attendees and to openly discuss a lot of thorny questions about hand work. I'm the moderator for several sessions with toolmakers, and so I've been busy scribbling questions for them. Here are just a few of them. I hope you are bringing some questions of your own.

1. Many bevel-up planes have a sliding mouth shoe to close the mouth. Why is this feature not typical on bevel-down tools?

2. Does the lack of a chipbreaker on a bevel-up plane ever hurt its performance?

3. We hear from Lee Valley customers that they want Veritas to make Bed Rock-style planes or infill planes or chisels. Are these products in the works, or what are the reasons that the Veritas line has focused more on original and new tool designs?

4. Some toolmakers use cryogenically treated irons, some don't. Does it really offer advantages or is it more marketing?

5. What you think about Stanley re-entering the marketplace for premium planes. Do you think this will bring new customers into the market? Or will it drive out some existing makers?

6. If you were designing a handplane for function alone, do you see advantages to the hollowed-out sole of a Japanese plane? Why hasn't this Japanese feature caught on with Western woodworkers (unlike Japanese chisels).

7. How flat should the frog of a handplane be? How can this be measured?

8. Does the iron have to contact the entire frog or only at the mouth?

9. How critical is it that the frog is square in the mouth of the tool? How can this be measured?

10. With bevel-up planes, how can bedding errors be detected at home?

11. Planes have gotten heavier overall in modern times. What does added weight do to a plane? What are the advantages and disadvantages of mass?

12. What is the best Rockwell hardness for a plane iron? Marketing copy seems to play up very hard irons. Aren't they more brittle?

13. Exotic steels: Have they become widespread because they are better for the user or have they become widespread because there is less manufacturing waste?

14. What do you think about diamond stones? Are they appropriate for woodworking tools? What lubricants do you recommend? Are they durable enough? Do they produce a different kind of edge – it sure looks different to my eye. Are perforated or smooth stones better? Is there much of a difference between monocrystalline and polycrystalline stones?

15. What is a "good saw?" That is, how do you define a perfect saw for an operation? Is it speed? Quality of cut? Ease of starting? Durability of teeth? How easy the saw is to use?

We hope to post a couple blog entries during the conference, but I can't make any promises. Be sure to check back next week when we'll have photos, perhaps some video and some information about our plans for next year.

— Christopher Schwarz

I swore I'd never move the Roubo workbench again. Oh well. I gotta stop swearing so much.

Find your credit card. You know the one. It's one your spouse always hides when you get caught reading my blog.

Auriou, the venerable French toolmaker that closed it doors last year after a labor dispute, re-opened for business on Friday. Thanks to new owners and the same plant manager, the new Forge de St Juery is making and selling many of the most popular and useful woodworking rasps on its web site.

The company has more than 400 rasps in stock right now, is currently taking orders and will begin shipping on Nov. 20. The company is much smaller than it was before it shuttered its doors (there is only one stitcher at the present time), so production will be on a small scale until more stitchers can be trained. That is a lengthy process.

The plant is still under the direction of Michel Auriou, a passionate and knowledgeable toolmaker, and so I have every confidence that the new tools will be as good as the old. And what great tools they are. I own four Auriou rasps (two at work; two at home), and I cannot imagine working without them. Actually, I can't remember what it was like to work without them. My old Nicholson rasps seem sorry, coarse and slow.

Of course, the logical question is which rasps you should buy. If you build typical casework and shelves, I think it's ideal to have two rasps:

A cabinet rasp (9", 10" or 12" are all good lengths) with a grain of nine or 10.

A modeller's rasp. I really like the 6" in a 15 grain. It leaves a very nice finish.

I'm also very interested in trying the ALBI rasp listed on the site.

The other good news here is that the prices are fairly in line with what the Auriou rasps sold for when the company closed last year. A 9" cabinet rasp sells for about $107 – that's much less than these suckers were going for on eBay. The shipping is expensive, however. A box containing up to five rasps is going to cost about $30.

However, all this talk about money is immaterial in my book. These are great rasps – the last ones you are ever likely to buy if you are a home woodworker.

— Christopher Schwarz

Looking for More Woodworking Information?
• Sign up for our newsletters to get free plans, techniques and reviews HERE.
• Looking for free articles from Woodworking Magazine? Click HERE.
• Like hand tools? Read all our online articles on hand work HERE.
• Want to subscribe to Woodworking Magazine? It's $19.96/year. Click HERE.

My puny 8'-long English workbench is starting to feel like an apartment-sized dinette set. Why? Check out this 12'-long version of that same bench design that boatbuilder Bob Easton constructed using Douglas fir.

Easton's design is interesting because he incorporated a third leg into the middle section of the bench because he was concerned that the whole thing might flex under heavy planing. He built the third leg just a little short to ensure that the whole thing wouldn't become a teeter-totter.

After using the bench, Bob reports that the third leg probably isn't necessary. The bench doesn't seem to flex at all in the middle. However, it looks cool and is good insurance in case Bob ever decided to rebuild a V-8 engine on there.

The other interesting alteration from the original plan published in my "Workbenches" book is that Bob used a traditional face vise in the end vise position. I built a wagon vise there on my version of the bench. I'm Chris Schwarz and I approve of this alteration.

Using a vise like this in the end-vise position saves you lots of construction time. The wagon vise took as long for me to build as the rest of the English workbench (no lie).

Bob has been blogging about his bench and you can follow his progress using this link. Or you can skip to the final and glorious result here.

— Christopher Schwarz


Looking for More Woodworking Information?
• Sign up for our newsletters to get free plans, techniques and reviews HERE.
• Looking for free articles from Woodworking Magazine? Click HERE.
• Like hand tools? Read all our online articles on hand work HERE.
• Want to subscribe to Woodworking Magazine? It's $19.96/year. Click HERE.

For the last few weeks I've been joking around that our woodshop has turned into a sweatshop. As of this morning, I don't think that joke is funny any more.

For the last few weeks the staff, lead by Senior Editor Robert W. Lang, has been building all the appliances and jigs that the instructors need for the hands-on clinics at our Woodworking in America conference next week. Oh, and we've also been milling the lumber that the attendees will be sawing, chopping, paring and planing.

There are bench hooks, planing boards, saw-filing vises and myriad other jiggery piled up everywhere in the shop. The jigs were built using poplar we had in the wood rack, ash left over from Lang's "21st Century Workbench" and even some cherry buried in the bottom of the rack that I'd bought to build my wall-hung tool chest.

I'm glad to see that cherry go, actually. As part of the deal I struck with the seller years ago, I bought 90 board feet of low-quality stuff to buy a load of amazingly wide, clear and beautiful black cherry.

We've enlisted everyone, from Publisher Steve Shanesy on down to Drew DePenning, our associate editor for the web, to help screw, nail and glue parts together. Thanks to all the help, I'm sure we're going to make our deadline. That is, as soon as I get my hinder away from the computer and screw together about 38 saw-filing vises.

Or maybe we're not done yet. This morning 250 board feet of poplar arrived at our loading dock. Maybe there are more jigs to build.

— Christopher Schwarz

Looking for More Woodworking Information?
• Sign up for our newsletters to get free plans, techniques and reviews HERE.
• Looking for free articles from Woodworking Magazine? Click HERE.
• Like hand tools? Read all our online articles on hand work HERE.
• Want to subscribe to Woodworking Magazine? It's $19.96/year. Click HERE.

I've been doing this job for 12 years now; and that's the longest commitment I've given anything, except for maybe shaving, remaining married and pork barbecue. So clearly I like my job, or I'm un-hirable in any other profession.

Most days are great: I read about woodworking, write about woodworking and do woodworking. But there are a few days that make me grind my teeth in frustration. This is one of those days.

I'm editing a piece by bodger and blacksmith Don Weber for the February 2009 issue of Popular Woodworking. Don has built an interpretation of a Sidney Barnsley hay-rake table and has done a beautiful job. And that's the problem.

I've been dying to build one of these tables since before I came to work here. Barnsley has long been one of my heroes. He was a trained architect who chucked it all to design and build furniture mostly by hand. And to top it all off he had great design sensibilities.

Of course, now that Weber has built this table for the magazine, there's little chance that I'll be able to build one unless I can find a customer. Casa Schwarz doesn't need a massive dining table (already got one). Nor does anyone in my family. I could build one on spec and try to sell it, but I think I'd probably end up with the world's fanciest basement Pla-Doh table.

Maybe I could just build a small model of it…. Aw crud.

— Christopher Schwarz

Looking for More Woodworking Information?
• Sign up for our newsletters to get free plans, techniques and reviews HERE.
• Looking for free articles from Woodworking Magazine? Click HERE.
• Like hand tools? Read all our online articles on hand work HERE.
• Want to subscribe to Woodworking Magazine? It's $19.96/year. Click HERE.

This morning I stumbled on a cool movie from 1940 that explains the types of woodworking jobs available at the time and has some really fun shots of veneering, furniture-making and patternmaking. If for some reason your browser won't display the movie, scoot on over to archive.org and you can choose from a wide variety of video formats.

My favorite part of the video is where they show the vocational students attacking some boards with tools. One of the students is planing a big old hollow in an edge. Then it shows him checking the edge to ensure it's square. Though you cannot hear the student, I'm sure he said something like, "Jeepers that edge sucks eggs."

If you have 10 minutes to spare, I think you'll enjoy this little flick.

— Christopher Schwarz

Looking for More Woodworking Information?
• Sign up for our newsletters to get free plans, techniques and reviews HERE.
• Looking for free articles from Woodworking Magazine? Click HERE.
• Like hand tools? Read all our online articles on hand work HERE.
• Want to subscribe to Woodworking Magazine? It's $19.96/year. Click HERE.

After watching Frank Klausz cut a set of dovetails in three minutes using a special bowsaw blade (see the video here in our video section), Rob Cosman decided to show that it can be done by cutting the tails first. (Frank cuts his pins first.)

For those who don't know Cosman, he has produced a series of great videos on hand joinery and has a new companion book on dovetailing that we highly recommend. It's spiral bound for the shop and is the best book I've ever read on cutting this traditional joint. You can read more about his videos, book and tools at RobCosman.com.

— Christopher Schwarz

Looking for More Woodworking Information?
• Sign up for our newsletters to get free plans, techniques and reviews HERE.
• Looking for free articles from Woodworking Magazine? Click HERE.
• Like hand tools? Read all our online articles on hand work HERE.
• Want to subscribe to Woodworking Magazine? It's $19.96/year. Click HERE.

Handplanes with corrugated soles vex many woodworkers. If you find them on a vintage plane, should you grab it or should you shun it? If you order a bench plane from Lie-Nielsen Toolworks, should you spend the extra $35 to get a corrugated sole or is that money better spent on some Lehman Brothers stock?

Corrugated soles started showing up on planes in the late 19th century. Craftsmen noticed that their newfangled metal planes were harder to push than their old-fashioned wooden-bodied planes, according to period accounts and patent papers.

So manufacturers began to mill corrugations in the soles of their planes. For a peek at their reasoning, check out this 1869 patent by E.G. Storke:

“…(E)xcessive friction was caused by their exact and even faces (of their soles), which were not materially varied by use or atmospheric changes.

“When used on very level surfaces, there were so many points of contact that the friction was troublesome, and the adhesion was further increased by atmospheric pressure, as partial vacuums would thus be formed.”

In other words, the planes were sticking to the work when the boards became really flat. I’ve encountered this when working with closed-grain woods, especially poplar and maple. In fact, if the board isn’t too large, I can occasionally lift the board off the bench because it is stuck to the tool’s sole. It’s a neat trick.

But is the plane harder to push if it doesn’t have corrugations? Many pointy heads I’ve talked to about this are dubious. Friction, they explain, is a function of force – not the surface area of the sole.

I have planes with both smooth soles and corrugated ones, and if there is a difference in effort required to wield them, I cannot discern it.

But there are some practical differences you should be aware of:

1. Corrugated soles on vintage planes are easier to flatten because there is less metal to remove. So if you have an old sole that needs work, corrugations are a plus.

2. The corrugations hold paraffin or wax. This wax wears away completely during use, so I assume it is lubricating the sole.

3. Corrugations on some sizes of vintage tools are rare. So if you are a collector, keep an eye out for them.

So here’s my bottom line: Corrugations don’t change the function of the plane for better or for worse, so it doesn’t really matter either way. I wouldn’t spend extra money to have them added, but I wouldn’t kick them out of bed for eating crackers, either.

— Christopher Schwarz

For more than a year now, I've been deep inside the skull of Joseph Moxon, who wrote the first English language how-to book on woodworking: "Mechanick Exercises." I've read his sections on woodworking so many times now I find myself using his 17th-century verbiage in the shop.

Things like: "You'll need to sand out those dawks." Or: "The Domino will never cut an accurate joint against those risings."

I decided I should get Moxon out of my system before I started wearing powdered wigs to work. So I've re-published Moxon's sections on woodworking, which he calls "The Art of Joinery," and I tried to make it accessible to a modern audience.

If you've ever attempted to read 17th-century writing, you know that it can be slow-going. The English of the time transposed the letter “f” for the letter “s.” So the sentence “…so shall the bounds of your mortise be struck” reads as “fo fhall the bounds of your Mortefs be ftruck.” Plus the sentence structure of the 1600s can be a maze for the modern mind.

So I reset the entire text. I put the letters "s" and "f" in their proper places. And I massaged the run-on sentences so they would be easier for our 21st-century brains to follow – without changing the meaning of the text.

I also added my own analysis of each section of "The Art of Joinery" to put the work in context for the modern reader and clear up some inconsistencies. There are some peculiarities in how Moxon's text doesn't match up with the 17th-century plates, and it can be confusing. Plus I added about 40 photos that show the techniques and tools that Moxon discusses in the text.

This is not an academic work. It's an attempt to make a very important woodworking book accessible to craftsmen today. So why should you read Moxon?

Well if you are interested in hand work, it's fascinating to see what the tool kit of the time was like and how it was used. I developed a deep respect for dividers after reading Moxon, and I find myself using them more in my work. It might make you rethink your sharpening lubricant. Or even how you use a block plane.

And I put all this information and inspiration into a well-made 93-page book. It's hardbound with a gold-stamped cloth cover. The pages are smythe sewn instead of just glued. And I got it printed in the United States. The price is $17 plus $4 shipping and it is available now on my personal web site at LostArtPress.com.

All the copies from our site are signed by me (though not by Moxon; that will cost you a lot more…).

Thanks for reading this shameless self-promotional plug.

— Christopher Schwarz

As a woodworking blogger, I try not to "overshare" when it comes to personal information. I try not to talk about my exotic skin lesions, what I had for breakfast and the wide array of annoying personal habits of my co-workers.

But today is a sad day here in the shop. It's time to let go of the "woobie."

The woobie is actually a rag (there, I said it) that has been soaked with the lubricating juices of many plants, animals and petroleums. For more than a decade, the woobie has wiped down every tool when I put it away. It has wiped every plane sole to make it easier to push. It has cleaned off every edge after sharpening.

But today I think the woobie goes in the garbage.

Here's the problem: I think the woobie has been contaminated by some sort of abrasive grit. Here's the evidence: My handplane edges are deteriorating more rapidly.

One of the indicators that it's time to resharpen a plane iron is when the shaving from the plane's mouth isn't intact across its width. It comes out as several smaller ribbons. What's happened to the iron is it has suffered small nicks or fractures in its edge that prevent it from taking a full-width shaving. Plus, it leaves little plane tracks behind at these fractures.

I've noticed that my smoothing plane iron at work is now deteriorating much more rapidly than my smoothing plane at home (which is where I keep "son of woobie").

More evidence: When I was teaching at Kelly Mehler's School of Woodworking in September I left my woobie at home. And after crouching and whimpering in the corner a bit because of my forgetfulness, I noticed that my edges were lasting a long time again, even though I was loaning my planes to the students.

Hmmm. The woobie sees a lot of abrasive when it wipes off my tools from sharpening. And it sits by the drill press, where there are metal filings and other nastiness. The woobie could be the source of the problem. Embedded grit could be scratching the irons when I wipe them off.

I could launder the woobie, but I want to stay married. So here's what I'm going to do: I'm going to put the woobie at the bottom of my now-empty garbage can, start a new woobie and monitor the longevity of my plane irons. If my edges improve I'll let the woobie go to the dump with the next load of trash.

And judging by how quickly we move here, that should be about Christmas.

— Christopher Schwarz

A lot of people ask to see my tool collection. I tell them I don't have one – I'm a user, not a collector. If I say that again, however, I'll be a liar.

Somehow during the last few months I've started acquiring edge-trimming planes. I've owned a Lie-Nielsen version – a right-handed copy of the Stanley No. 95 – for many years, and that was all this woodworker needed.

But this spring I heard Thomas Lie-Nielsen tell the story of how he got started in the plane-making business in the 1980s to a group of students at the Marc Adams School of Woodworking. I'd heard the story before: Lie-Nielsen began making the edge-trimming plane after picking up the business from machinist Ken Wisner.

This time, the story was different because one of the students at the school (Jeff Skiver) brought one of the Wisner planes to the class to show. (You can read about his plane in a blog entry I wrote in April.) As I held the little sucker, I thought it would be cool to own one of these Wisner planes as a piece of modern planemaking history.

So I started trolling eBay with little luck. Meanwhile, we got the new Veritas versions of the edge-trimming plane in iron, and (mystery of mysteries) those ended up in my tool chest. Then I stumbled upon an AMT version of the tool for sale that I couldn't pass up. The AMT version is, by the way, a complete piece of dung. Its red velvet bag is nice, however.

I knew I had crossed over when I started regretting not buying the stainless steel version of the plane that Veritas offered but is now sold out.

And this week, I finally got my Wisner.

Thanks to some help from Skiver, I found an eBay auction for a Wisner plane and snagged it for a fair price. When it arrived, I was thrilled with it. Not only is it well made, but it is the first used tool I've ever bought that came perfectly sharp and ready to go. That's the good news.

Here's the bad news: My Wisner plane has an iron body with a brass lever cap. So now I'm going to have to look for a Wisner with a bronze body. And the Veritas version in bronze.

And that stainless Veritas plane. Curses.

— Christopher Schwarz

Getting all the bits of hardware to match on a project is a critical detail for me. I go to great lengths to ensure the hinges, pulls and other assorted metal bits look like they came from the same family.

For example, for the blanket chest on the cover of the Summer 2008 issue I wanted to get the brown steel stays to match the black iron chest hinges. I ended up painting the steel stays black, then lacquering them and rubbing them out until they looked like the powdery black iron.

This might seem excessive, but every time anyone (even my kids) opens the chest for the first time, they comment on the cool hardware. It's definitely worth it.

One of the biggest problems with getting your hardware to match is dealing with shiny brass. I really dislike the way it looks for some reason. So I usually end up aging all the brass bits until they look like they have seen about 100 years of use.

Here's how I do it. First I strip any lacquer off the hinges. I'll pour a little bit of lacquer thinner into a Mason jar, drop the hardware in and shake the jar for a few minutes. Usually the thinner gets a little tinge of color (sometimes green).

I discard the thinner, dry off the hinges and clean out the jar. Then I drop the hardware back into the jar and add a tablespoon of liquid gun blue (I use Perma Blue made by Birchwood Casey). I shake it around until the brasses and screws are colored. Then I pour the gun blue back into the bottle and pour cold tap water into the jar.

After rinsing the hardware, I'll dry it off and let it sit out awhile. The instructions say you should allow the stuff to cure overnight. I haven't had any problems installing the hardware almost immediately.

I really like the color that gun blue imparts. It's always consistent, never streaky and doesn't look like a dye job.

There are other ways to go about this process. You could install the hinges and wait 100 years. You could use ammonia, which is the process Senior Editor Robert W. Lang uses. And I'm sure there are even more out there. If you have a favorite one that you think is even easier, post a comment below.

— Christopher Schwarz

When The Chronicle shows up in my mailbox, I know that my evening is shot. I take the magazine to our sunroom after dinner, settle down in my Morris chair and pretty much read the whole thing.

The Chronicle is the quarterly magazine of the Early American Industries Assc., a non-profit organization founded 72 years ago to understand early technology in the home, farm and workshop. Each issue explores the physical world of handcraft, though it is by no means a hand-tool-only publication. Machinery looms large in the history of early American industry.

What you get in each issue is a heavy dose of hard-to-find information on tools and processes that are in danger of vanishing, like quarrying granite or harvesting ice. And because our country was built mostly from wood with woodworking tools, there is always a strong woodworking undercurrent that runs through the publication.

In the new issue, which I just received last week, there are fantastic articles exploring the crooked knife (essentially a beautiful Native American drawknife), how to read tool marks on old furniture (axes vs. adzes vs. froes and so on), and a detailed exploration of the Stanley 620 hand drill.

How do you get The Chronicle? By joining the Early American Industries Assc. It's just $35 a year and opens up a world of tool information for you. In addition to The Chronicle magazine, you also get the organization's newsletter, the opportunity to attend their annual meetings (always in a cool place), the Eastfield Summer Workshop (usually on traditional skills) or take a European tool tour.

If you pick up your tools (hand or power) and understand that they are a connection to our past, I know you'll enjoy reading The Chronicle. You can join today by visiting their web site at eaiainfo.org.

— Christopher Schwarz

Several years back I was fitting some 1/4"-thick mullions and muntins into a door and needed to plane the little suckers to remove their sawmarks.

Planing thin stock can be a real pain. I've seen how other craftsmen do it. Lonnie Bird drives escutcheon pins into his benchtop (or a planing board) and works against those. It's a neat trick. David Charlesworth attaches the stock to a planing board temporarily with cyanoacrylate. This is fantastic for long stock especially.

Here's how I came up with my method. I like to use planing stops because they are fast. And as I was considering how to plane these little nubbins of wood I was staring off into space outside my shop window and the tool rack hanging before it.

I remember thinking to myself: "For this planing stop, I need a really thin and rigid piece of material. Something with really square edges so they'll grab the work. I need something like a steel ruler."

So I searched over the junk pile in the window well behind my bench. (Note: This is my secret shame area. Though I don't have a tool well in my bench I have a junky window well instead.)

None of the little bits of wood in the window well fit the bill. They were too thick or their edges weren't crisp. Then it occurred to me: Hey moron, why not use a steel ruler?

And so I did, and I continue to use my slender 12" Shinwa to this day. It works great. I clamp it to the bench and go to town. And now to go get some ginseng.

— Christopher Schwarz

The back page of the upcoming issue of Woodworking Magazine (which mails to subscribers at the end of November) focuses on wood structure. What’s the difference among ring-porous woods, non-porous woods and diffuse-porous woods (not to mention semi-diffuse/semi-ring porous)? What’s a tracheid? A vessel? What’s meant by earlywood and latewood? And most important, what’s it all mean to a woodworker?

While researching the topic (I know far more about parenchyma cells and fusiform rays than my high-school biology teacher would ever credit), I discovered that cherry and maple are diffuse-porous woods, and therefore ought to take up stain fairly evenly according to the basic structural properties they share with all diffuse-porous species. But if you’ve ever worked with cherry and maple, you know that’s not the case. They can get blotchier than Chris in his Clearasil days.

So what’s the explanation? Our money is on elves. R. Bruce Hoadley doesn’t provide an answer in “Understanding Wood” (our wood technology bible). The Forest Products Laboratory doesn’t have an answer. Our finishing expert Bob Flexner doesn’t have an answer…and neither do any of the several world-renowned wood technologists he’s asked (though apparently, Bob has a scientist in Switzerland looking into it).

Anecdotal evidence points to stress. The explanation goes like this: In the winter, when snow is piled up on tree limbs, they’re bent down under heavy pressure. Or in windy forests, gusts stress limbs in a constant direction. These areas of stress change the grain pattern, and the irregular grain pattern is where the blotching occurs. Uh huh. This apparently has yet to be scientifically proven. Black walnut (another diffuse-porous wood) doesn’t blotch…or when it does, it’s good-looking blotch. Black walnut’s natural range includes western Vermont. I’m pretty sure it snows there.

I still think it’s elves (the fellow pictured above is named Eugene)…but I’m willing to entertain other explanations, should you care to comment below.  

— Megan Fitzpatrick

One of the most powerful things about hand tools is that they allow you to work on small areas of a board with ease. Instead of running the whole board through an electric planer to remove a small area of ugliness, you can usually remove it with a couple well-placed swipes of a handplane.

But exactly where you put those swipes is the topic of this blog entry.

This week I'm building a contemporary Arts & Crafts cabinet in maple for the master bath (OK, you caught me, it's a flipping potty cabinet). One of the structural details of the cabinet is that it has a thick base piece and top cap that are attached to the carcase.

The top cap and base are face-glued to the carcase. Getting the pieces to mate can be tricky. There are a lot of surfaces to get flat, and the fit between the carcase and the top cap and base will be highly visible (to me and my spouse, at least).

To encourage mating, I recommend friction (I think the human resources department is going to come down on me for this post).

First secure the carcase against your bench. Then take the mating piece and rub it vigorously against the carcase. About 10 swipes will be enough. Remove the mating piece and then get yourself down low so you can see light reflecting off the carcase. The high spots on the carcase and its mating piece will be burnished and will be shinier than the low spots.

Mark the high spots with a pencil. Then remove the shiny spots using a plane with a short sole, such as a low-angle block plane. Remove the high spots from both the carcase and the mate. Then repeat the process until you get the fit you want.

— Christopher Schwarz

Mark the shiny high spots with a pencil.

Then remove the high spots using a plane that has a short sole.