Paul Sellers

I made and started to use my plywood workbench in 2019. My first Paul Sellers workbench video came together in 2012 and went out in 2013. I think some people saw it as an interim workbench until they could attain the status symbol of something to match their as yet to be established skill levels....

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But it could have been better. Information-postwar became more consumably low-grade but then again excessive too, to the degree that too much information took too much spend-time for people to pay enough attention to actually read it. Professor Henry Simmons, a specialist in information, said that it became an issue when there was too much information for individuals to process in the time that they had available. How much more so today. Especially as 98% of what's taking our time is of no worth at all. And that was back in 1965, btw. But things did become slack, as is the case in this leaflet. Of course, back then, the processing of hand outs like this were more time-consuming to produce than in our digital world today. How often do I hear, "Oh, I just use ChatGPT, it's amazing." . A new age of printouts was still yet to come. In our age of instant digital full-colour printouts, we can produce a leaflet at the drop of a hat and send it around the world in the same drop-of-a-hat split seconds, no problem. Enough said. This leaflet was given away free in the box with Record planes. I read it and thought it could have been much better.

Firstly, the Record Company of Sheffield, UK gives no acknowledgement to the designer of the plane and presents it as a Record Company plane design when they designed not one jot of the design in any way. The plane is a Leonard Bailey USA knock-off design of a hundred and fifty years ago. This Leonard Bailey design surpassed any and all British made versions in terms of longevity, adjustability, cost and so on. Though there have been more robust versions made (meaning heavy, clunky and too weighty for versatility in any field of use), I'm thinking mostly BedRock versions with minor but no better frog differences made by engineers using better tooling and tighter tolerances––but not one of them outperforms the Stanley originals in any way. So, the authors should have acknowledged that the Record plane was nothing to do with a Sheffield design, but should at the very least have acknowledged Leonard Bailey as the inventor and designer. In the same way, most if not all modern copyists of all Stanley versions never mention nor show any acknowledgement or respect for Leonard Bailey. A dozen copyists and more fail to respect what this designer gave to the woodworking world. For the main part Lie Nielsen, Quang Sheng, Juuma, Wood River, Clifton and many more, instead of hoping Leonard Bailey's name will be forgotten, should attribute the inventor by acknowledging clearly that they did nothing more than copy the whole of his original designs but with very minor tweaks.

What's Wrong Then?

The pamphlet states: "Record planes have many points of advantage to users." They don't offer anything beyond the Stanley invention of Leonard Bailey bench plane designs, so no such thing, and certainly no more than the common or garden Stanley.

"The parts for adjusting the cutting iron are accurately made to give very fine adjustment." Not really. There is as much slack in a Record plane take-up as there is in any Stanley. That said, slack is fine. The slacker, the better for me. A quick spin of a well-worn adjustment wheel and a floppy lateral adjustment lever works well by the flick of a thumb or forefinger. My fingers take up the slack in a heartbeat, and I'm set.

The article refers to the underside of the plane, the sole, only as the "base of the Body" and never identifies the plane sole as such anywhere. Now as far as anyone knows the underside of the plane has always been referred to as the plane sole.

"This Cutting iron is hardened and tempered under scientific control, which ensures accuracy and uniformity." Come on, I mean. I mean, what's scientific control but twaddle-speak anyway? I have never found any noticeable difference between Record and Stanley plane irons, either...to the point that I use them interchangeably.

More: "It is of the utmost importance that the correct grinding angle of 25º is maintained." That's never really been true. If you want a two-bevel method you can do that, but for three centuries before this time craftsmen responsible for some of the finest woodwork ever in history never ground their cutting irons to twin bevels nor a hollow grind as standard but rough ground and then whetted or honed, same thing, the whole bevel to a sort of, roughly, near to a quarter ellipse as show in the drawing. Having examined many a hundred plane irons that go back two centuries and more, every plane iron I ever saw was simply sharpened to a camber. It's just our generation that thinks we are better and more developed to come up with a complex composition of micro and macro this or that so that we can tell others you must do this and that.

I can tell by eye if or when I have allowed a bevel to get too 'thick' and I think I may have checked a bevel angle once or twice in the last three decades. That said, we do need a goal to shoot for, and why not somewhere between 20º and 35º? Why 20º? Well, not for plane irons, but yes, for paring chisels. These chisels are rarely if ever struck heavily, and neither are they levered with much either. They rely on hand and arm power to pare cut surface protrusions and such, so the bevel of resistance can be deemed less necessary. You are unlikely to get cutting-edge fracture with hand paring actions. But we do gently tap a paring chisel in necessary situations. I should also point out that on bevel-down planes the angle of the cutting iron bevel can be anywhere between two or three degrees less than the bed angle of the frog, so on Bailey-pattern planes that's around 44º so you can go as steep as 42º and it will cut fine. What am I saying? The bevel on bevel-down planes has no consequential effect on the cut because, well, it's tucked out of the way wholly behind the flat face and never touches the wood. Any wall of resistance on these cutting irons will be on the wide flat face, not the bevel. Duh!

But it could have been better. Information-postwar became more consumably low-grade but then again excessive too, to the degree that too much information took too much spend-time for people to pay enough attention to actually read it. Professor Henry Simmons, a specialist in information, said that it became an issue when there was too much...

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The shavings fell from every plane and the river of shavings kept building before my broom could get to them. "Get a move on, lad!" Merlin shouted across the bench as I swept the shavings as vigorously as a two-foot wide broom could go. You'd be surprised how much plane work resulting in shavings half a dozen men can produce in an hour of full-on planing. Pines of different kinds, oak, walnut, ash and beech. All of a different hue and scent. This becomes enrichment to a boy like me. That was then and this is now. I still have the same scents in my shop every day. Looking back on it now, I doubt that there are many out there who have ever seen what was a common sight back in the pre 1960s. Ten bin bags but hessian or burlap sacks went to burn in the boiler where I stoked waste wood to heat the workshop all day long. But I loved it. The banter back and forth, the way the men talked about their political beliefs, the arguing for one party or another and then those in the union condemning those who weren't. Then there was a certain kind of solitude in the working of the hand tools. Three men using handsaws, two with planes and another two with chisel chops coming from mortising an extra mortise. But then there was something else in these postwar heroes. They sang, they whistled, they hummed, and they sang songs they knew from their war years that lifted their spirits' in camaraderie. George was way too young for the war, but he too knew all the songs, and he'd sing along or whistle. I liked it best when they would spontaneously start ad hoc music with sticks and flexed saws; Keith pulled out his harmonica, he was good, and then the a cappella singing of men harmonising quite out of the blue had the distinct brilliance only spontaneity can bring; I have yet to hear anywhere ever again in such a real and vivid man's working environment. The masculinity of it was pervasive as if mixing with the scents of the wood, the accumulated aromatics unique to only truly vintage woodshop.

After sweeping, I would end up on the clamping machine that we used to clamp massive or small frames together, seating a dozen or so mortise and tenons in a frame all at the press of a single foot treadle before we drove the pins through the joints to hold them. Even then, there was a synchrony that somehow steadied the work from every man and boy. I learned the songs they sang. Vera Lynn's "We'll meet again..." but then they'd mingle in a classical opera piece or a more modern singer from the 50s. What is it that we lost from that era. Where do you ever hear men sing together at work? The work itself never stopped, except for an odd crooning moment where two or three of them sang Etta James' "Stormy Weather" in perfect pitch and harmony. The deep, 'do woos' background and such followed by lots of Nat King Cole "Unforgettable", "Rambling Rose."

Our singling lasted for 20 minutes. The work harmony melded with the camaraderie every other day. It was spirit lifting and we to a man took our part. Old Bill had just about lost the breath to sing, but his lips moved in unison with everyone elses. The prompts from the radio usually sparked one or another to start singing, but then too there was another aspect to the environment I saw from these men. An illness, a broken relationship, the loss of a newborn, a teen crisis by one prompted support from another. It was a whole support network never spoken or voiced into being, and yet two men, maybe three, huddled in a group to support some failure on the part of one family they might never have met. These few men impacted my life. It wasn't always good, but generally, they somehow softened under the weight of supporting one another. The war changed the working classes to empower them in ways we could never really anticipate. I wonder where we are today.

Anyway, just a few thoughts!

The shavings fell from every plane and the river kept building before my broom could get to them. “Get a move on, lad!” Merlin shouted across the bench as I swept the shavings as vigorously as a two-foot wide broom could go. You’d be surprised how much plane work resulting in shavings half a dozen...

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Well, I'll try to keep this shorter, this once. The next one I just finished is quite a long one.

It's a forever friends and friendly reminder thing, woodworking the way we do. It's a totally inclusive endeavour to include everyone but especially our children to come in the workshop during their formative years; otherwisemachining wood can make it 98% exclusive, and they just might never discover their true love of it because machining must, MUST, exclude them until they are almost always past it.

Mostly, what I have to say is a might different and difference stating. My worklife (one word) making every single day in wood using mainly hand tools, except for long deep rip cuts, has been a lived life of sixty-one years. That does not mean I didn't use machines in my businesses but depended on them quite mildly and minimally if compared to most woodworkers and then too machinist-only woodworkers. What I have done and do is use a machine for two or three minutes a day, maybe not at all, and the rest of my eight to ten hours of woodworking I do solely with a handful of hand tools. Try to imagine, roughly at least, 183,000 hours of continuous and seamless woodworking and most of those hours with hand tools. Who do you know that's done such a thing with such a living and provided for a good-sized family on a single income household? But anyway, that's not the point. I am really quite different than most, and therefore I offer a singularly different perspective.

Since this pic was taken in 2015 for my book, Essential Woodworking Hand Tools, eleven years ago, wow, I feel as healthy and as well as I did back then. I have no pain and my hands, arms and upper body, they all work just as well as when I was forty. Fact is, ten minutes before I wrote this I carried a seven-foot by three-foot-six-inch bookcase down the stairs, loaded it into the back of my vehicle and drove to the house to unload it on my own. This is not in any way a boast, but the simple reality of hand woodworking in high-demand realms at age 76 is a health maintenance regimen.

It's taken me three and more decades to finally graduate my art, which I feel more to be a composition of life through the living of it. As it is with all true craftwork, furniture making and living life is a refinement process. As a graduate, I'm not altogether sure that people I've met and meet anywhere, near get the difference between what I (and it's now more the 'we' of it) do with wood and what they, the other professionals, more generally do. And I am worried that my fighting for the cause of real woodworking might have caused more the lost-cause that might be increasing the more permanent state of affairs because those in professional realms deskilling the craft and art of work most likely will win long term and that's because of their belief system. In the eyes of some it has become 'their' competition and most likely I am sure to be seen as the loser even though I'm not. You see, I have achieved change. If I were indeed trying to convert the professionals, that would make a difference, but I'm not, and that means it doesn't matter because I'm not. But it is most often the professionals who claim me not to be, "living in the real world.", and that's because, though not to anywhere near the same level, I have lived to some degree in their world, but stopped to take myself off the conveyor belt decades ago. Also, it's because, as deskilled material handlers, they never crossed over and never made it in the skilled realms and emphatic refrain to experience the successes of successful hand tool methods––mainly, that is.

No, not turned, no gouges or turning tools. Took a lot longer, but I didn't need a lathe nor incur any of the mess. I didn't need a dust mask or eye and ear protection either. Nice to have that thoughtful connectivity to my wood and the tools. It took about half an hour to make, and I have been using it now for five years on my #4 Stanley. The wood is Yew, and it fits my hand perfectly. I could have turned it, of course I could, but I was 71 when I made it, and I was able to teach and tell thousands of other how to do without having to buy a space-hogging lathe and turning tools and teach them how to turn. Oh, a;lso, Yew is highly toxic from the tippy toe of its hairy roots, through the whole of its inner core and bark to and throughout every leaf and berry. But making it the way I did, I needed nothing more else. That's a total success story right there.

I am aware that this is something of a broad brush sweep here, so I will say that not all professionals are the same, but it is always professionals that try to counter what I say and advocate by comments they dip in with. Often they fail to see the negative impact machining wood has on them long term. Quite frankly, machining wood gets old fast and soon becomes, well, standing-around boring. You see, after 61 years of daily woodworking making some really lovely and inspiring pieces, I still can't wait to get to making more every day. It's also worth pointing out that what we have and own they never wanted and never owned. That being so, there is really no point trying to compare the apples with oranges in any way shape, colour or form. If you think that woodworking with machines for the bulk of your woodworking is the more progressive and efficient way, then you could be right. What the difference is is the how of what you actually achieve, and in this, you most likely will have indeed wholly missed the point. Recessing a hinge flap with a power router, the sledgehammer approach to cracking nuts, is something of a primitive task. The power you rely on is low demand woodworking, and me and my audience in general are looking for more in our woodworking than simply becoming a machinist. We like the "risk of work" in its entirety and want to choose whether we can interact differently. I am doing my very best to explain the essentially important difference between two extremely opposite ways of working wood, points of view and the methodology and doing it from the other side of the fence as a former professional maker and one who turned amateur to become a lifestyle chooser and maker––it's my 'professional point of view', you see!

We made a cello together by hand––him 16 and me 56, I think. It took three months of full eight-hour days to do, and he still owns and plays it now, 20 years on. These are remarkable things surrounding hand tools. Look at thios. Father and son working together to build a cello. We couldn't wait to get going every single day. He has the same skills, knowledge and ability that I have and then some. We still work alongside one another most days and what I did with him as a child growing into adulthood he has started with his own two children and I have been inputting too. We're working on the spruce top now. That back, maple, is waiting in the background now that its done.

So today, I pick up chisels and planes, handsaws I can sharpen with a file in a few minutes, no more than five, and a peace I get from the slowed version of woodworking I still love to do. I have found a few hundred thousand who feel the same way and want to understand why they feel the way they do, but can't always explain it to those who think machining wood is anything more than what it really is. It's no problem from to keep reminding my friends that they don't really need to explain their quiet and gentle ways of enjoying physical woodworking, the leverage of a chisel, the skewing of the plane, choosing one plane or saw over another, such like that. It's the technology that retained its core values in our lived life of woodworking, you see.

My classes started with this project back in the 1980s and 90s when I took the leap to start teaching one-on-one with children. I have made a thousand of these small boxes since, and taught 6,500 students in hands-on classes to master the art of hand-cutting their dovetails through this one project. Since then, we have taught over a million and possibly, probably, more than likely several millions of people how to successfully develop their dovetailing skills. Who'd have thought that was at all possible. They succeeded because they came to believe in themselves.

Well, I’ll try to keep this shorter, this once. The next one I just finished is quite a long one. Mostly, what I have to say is a might different and difference stating. My worklife (one word) making every single day in wood using mainly hand tools, except for long deep rip cuts, has been...

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Elm is one of our more unusual hardwoods in that its whole infrastructure, though reliant on the same essential working components are the same as all other trees, the outcome of what its capillaries transport from root hair tips to leaf top tips is a wood, as in its inner core stem, that's not like any other. That's why I say it is a timber of character, a multi-personality that defies similar means and methods of working when it comes to working it with conventional hand tools. In some ways, I'd say it might better match my own personality, in that its only predictability is, in fact, its unpredictability. Go to split it with an axe for a straight-grain split, even where the grain looks absolutely straight, and within any given inch it will duck, dive, twist and turn a dozen times before dipping where you least want or expect it to. No other western species comes even close. Here in Britain, you'll find it mostly used in vintage chairs where the seats were shallowly hollowed to fit children's smaller bottoms so you'll find it, especially in school seating for children past, not today, of course, moulded plastic replaced wood mostly and then formed plywood as well. It's a rougher, crude and coarse-grained hardwood that's not particularly hard but highly characterful and often loaded with every kind of defect ranging from a mass of diversely different knots to checks, shakes and splits, pretty much the same thing, along with stunted buds from sprouts that never developed into branches or twigs but left an intertwined mass like a knotted ball of sting within the bark of the tree stem. It''s this interlocking that protrudes from the main stem of the tree we refer to as a burr (UK) and burl (USA). Beneath these protrusions, inside the tree, is the stunning and highly sought-after, decorative feature wood comprising a complexity of swirling grain patterns, deep, dark contrasting knots enveloped by impressive grain configurations, and a mass of different 'eyes' caused by localized, abnormal growth.

My deciding to keep my wood pieces in the original profile rather than rip cut width and depth to even sizing resulted in my 'climbing wall' look I ended up with. That being so, this book case will have to be tethered to the wall at the top with a fastening or more likely an English cleat...just in case!

This is my most recent 2026 bookshelf piece, which came from large slabs of elm I bought six years ago. I had brought them indoors and left them stood on end to fully dry in my better controlled workshop environment. Knowing the tendency of elm to twist and turn as long as there is any excess of moisture there in the wood, I needed these levels to be as low as is practicable. This wood had been stored wrongly, but I knew that when I bought it and looked forward to it having added character from the neglect. It did not disappoint.

I often rely on old wooden planes because they offer a completely different dynamic to stock preparation, making it lighter and easier to accomplish. These planes float across wild wood like swans on a lake. No metal plane gives the same feeling or outcome––not a single one, but especially not the heavy weights people selling planes always espouse. Weight, with wooden plane bodies, evaporate with the first stroke.

It was during the COVID pandemic that I started to tame my wood pile. Hard to think how that botched-up control of the world through fear and manipulation caused such a global mess. Politics, manipulation and control freaks! During my self-isolating at the workshop, I found time to take care of things through the newly afforded space of time in the workshop; I cleared up my new wood acquisition by cutting off the excesses of rough bark and heavy rot to better stack and control about forty beams of mixed elm and beech. The beech has been beautiful with such spalting definitive of beech spalting and I have made five sizeable pieces for the house from it thus far.

We made this small office suite for the landing of Sellers'home at the top of the stairway. The corner-fitting desk, the chair and the filing cabinet are made from the spalted beech.

This wood was all rough sawn by bandsaw and needed planing level and smooth to remove warpage. I trued one of the larger flat faces and used that face to reference to my bandsaw table to give me square adjacent faces and parallel widths. The bandsaw cuts the wood easily with no negative flexing as with other woods. I was surprised to have people advise me that planing it by hand with bench planes would be too onerous and problematic. Most woodworkers do tend to exaggerate the hardships of working with some particular woods from their region, but few woodworkers today are used to hand planing their wood and persevering under that kind of hardship. The wood came together just fine, and it really was not hard or difficult to work in any way at all, despite the mass of knots and other defects.

My rip-cut stack starts the beginning of the workshop journey after I ripped off any excesses but prefacing this was a hundred-mile trip to collect it from bad storage under a leaking tarp. This is a mixture of beech and elm. The neglectful storage enhanced the outcome for me with diverse influences of degrade. Most of it is now used up in our Sellers' home projects.

I am expecting some movement when the unit gets anchored to the wall. We will see how much. The thing is this, though. Wood moves through atmospheric changes in exchanges occurring through varying levels of warmth and moisture––it's a given that these changes take place continuously in most home and office environments. In a family of say four, the atmosphere will be more highly charged with atmospheric moisture––showering and cooking will be partly to blame because people hang out in the shower longer or cooking takes more than say for one person, perhaps heating up a ready-meal in a microwave. I shower after work to get clean and free from dustiness, others, most if not all, now shower to go to work or even shower two times a day. My hair is short and is dried with a towel with two quick rubs. Not so for long hair. All of this changes the dynamic our wood pieces must live with, and wood WILL and DOES swell...all the time!

The paleness of spalting and then bug runs and wormholes add to the texture of this particular workpiece and I have kept rather than discarded those bits normally thrown out or burned. It's this diversity that I have retained in the wood's grain for gain in this particular depiction of natural wood decline leading to its return to the earth. I wanted to keep its silent passage as it's all part of the earth's unspoken story.

I am convinced, I could be wrong, that most of my woodworking counterparts would have discarded a lot of the pieces I chose to work with and keep. I wanted the character marks of various decline phases as influences on the wood. Now that I am old, I saw elements of my own personality reflected in my elm. Sometimes the wood seemed just a tad grizzly, but I kept those bits to work on my own stubbornness. Then there were the cracks and fissures; some were caused by the drying process and the lack of climate control to even out the pace, whereas others came when the tree was dropped. I recall two years ago when the mean-spirited man attacked me from behind and broke three of my ribs. This tree was dropped and when that happens the shock in the fall, the crashing to the ground caused cross-stem-fracture which is not the more generally accepted cracking along or with the grain.

There's a lot to take in on this journey, and even in an eight-inch jag like this we have lots to learn. The bottom corner where the first housing dado accepts the shelf has a typical gathering of small 'dead' knots to contemplate before any actual cutting takes place. Two inches above is a cross-grain fissure that passes from this side to the other. This was not caused by shrinkage, but by shock when the tree was initially dropped.

And then there are the remains of the spike showing the root of rootedness of a branch in the main tree stem at the top. Shifts in colour, grain configuration all track the history of the tree over many decades. Pollution, atmospheric shifts in climate, factor into our trees and the dendrochronology, the science of analysing and interpreting the growth evidenced in the tree stem over decades and centuries that determine what took place and when according to its scientific evaluation. Through this, we have been better able to establish a more precise environmental record, allowing researchers to study past climates, ecological events, and date archaeological sites or wooden artifact. Think of these trees as passengers on the earth. Stagnant in distance moves, but on board the ocean of soil polluted by our greed and poor stewardship.

A swirling mass of variation characterises elm in business. The hidden joints will hold flatness and eliminate the risk of twist over the coming century of use. It's the signature joint of all bookshelves, and I have made thousands upon thousands throughout my life. It's no exaggeration to say perhaps at least a hundred thousand of them and all hand cut with saws, chisels and hand-router plane.

My fingers trace the passage of my refining work now that the finish is on, and I have settled the matter of taking the rough-sawn tree slabs to the house. The two coats are so thin they don't measure by human touch. I feel now that I am touching the wood in all of its glory. My first sealer coat was 50/50 dewaxed clear shellac and denatured alcohol. It's also a perfect sander coat, so sanding is done in seconds to the silkiest glass smoothness you've ever felt anywhere. My first-level topcoat for this project is Osmo Polyx hard wax clear satin oil. Of course, we use all kinds of terms like 'oil' and 'resin' when many such terms are erroneous, often intended to mislead, present s natural, really. But you can mix any fluids you like together and call them 'Danish oil' (nothing to do with the Danes) or 'resin' or just 'oil' and sell them as such if you want to. Without data sheets, we really don't know what we are working with.

Grain, for us makers with hand tools, is not a surface-skimming snapshot, but an in-depth, inner-fibre play investigation every time we plumb the depths of a joint, or plane and saw into it. I have added no colour to this wood. All I did was plane, scrape and sand the wood to 250-grit and apply clear shellac as a sealer/sanding coat to lock the fibres ready for the Osmo oil.

There is no stain or colouring in the finishing material I applied, nor anything applied to actually colour the wood as a base colour. Put either the shellac or Osmo on on clear glass, and you can see through it with only the very slightest opacity and zero colour.

These medullary rays reminded me of the billions of stars of the night skies that just go on and on forever. Quite spectacular. Stunning, altogether too marvellous for words.

The plexus of joints and joinery complicate the simplicity of looks as I work through my choices surrounding the uncomplicated use of housing dadoes. Seventeen joints deliver roughly 50" of shoulder lines for lateral stability, but the amazing element is this: measuring corner to corner after the glue up and clamp removal. The corner to corner diagonal measurements are exactly the same. The significance? I didn't check because I wanted to know if it would be square, but so I could briefly discuss it here. It's a personality issue. I knew that I had worked accurately enough on each knifewall shoulder with my hand tool methods alone to delivery a dead square project because of the mass of shoulder lines. Factor into all of this about 120" of dado length, and you see that working with hand tools is indeed a character-building exercise for good mental and physical health. This is soul-strengthening work rather than soul-destroying work, in my view.

The joinery making in elm using hand tools is not hard at all, actually, it's easy, but I often think elm is born without lignin; the wood sometimes seems to have no lignin uniting the fibres, the bio-plastic occurring naturally in plantilfe is the glue that gives it rigidity and also has growing applications in bio-plastics and carbon fibres. The issue then is that bits fall off in the short grain of say dovetails and such. That point right on the corner.

At this point, I have assembled and disassembled about five times, with an average on each joint somewhere about 7 times. This is essential to ensure every joint seats well at first, but then that no one joint compromises another in the grand assembly and before gluing up. Does that mean gap-free togetherness? I'm afraid not. I thought that I did have all the joints full seated but found a couple that I should have clamped and missed. I slid in a slither and glued it in place. The final place may never be seen, but the slither neatly placed and trimmed definitely looked better than a gap, for sure.

The clamps consolidate the mass until those thin films of plastic glue unite. Taking off the clamps is to 'bring the work to rest.' There's always a settledness to this sense of preeminence over my wood, my tools and the overall completion of work. Oh, see the bent stick of plywood between the underside of the top and the top of the lower shelf. I think it's worth noting. This applies pressure where a clamp had a negative effect.

Did I use screws? I used four. Why? I missed gluing one of the housing dadoes for one reason or another. When I took the clamp off, it came apart by half a millimetre. I did squeeze in some glue but had no idea where it spread to, so I predrilled the holes to guide two long screws from underneath that bottom shelf into one of the sides and plugged the holes with wooden plugs. One of the uprights was not wide enough so I glued and screwed an added two inches in width. The screws were so I could keep working and didn't have to wait a few hours for glue to dry. Not impatient, just time saving.

My knowledge of woodworking from tree-dropping to finished pieces in the hundreds tells me that this fissure is a shock result occurring most of the time when the tree is dropped from standing rooted to the earth it grew in for two hundred years in this case. In other words, it did not occur during the growth of the living tree but in its felling. This is cross-grain splitting, where the sheer weight of the tree was too much for the stem. The fissure was in adjacent slabs either side and there was no degrade through the kind of rot that would have been present in a growing tree or a standing dead version.

You will notice that in my remedial steps it was because I really had no other option. Yes, there were compromises. I'm a practical and pragmatic maker, I have to be, but then making videos for teaching and training (and entertainment too) adds the extra dimension that often interrupt the flow of thought and the work patterns I always work to that generally disallow such issues.

Alongside my slender, sliver of a gap-filler are the original sawmill bandsaw marks I retained as evidence for the year 2126 so their forensics can paint their own picture on an earth-borne tree of magnificence but long since extinct.

When it comes to the joinery, some things might not be too obvious at first glance. Yes, they are all what I would refer to as housing dadoes. Why housing dadoes? Never really heard of it? Well, transitionally., in my changing continents to live, experiencing life in woodworking there and having done the same in the UK, I discovered that we in the UK referred to dadoes as housing joints and never at that time referred to housings as dadoes, whereas in the UK a recess going with or across the grain would be a housing. In the US, a dado is a cross-grain channel, whereas one running with the grain would be a groove. I decided that housing dado fit the description better, and I continued to consider other recesses as housings, as in hinge recesses, lock recesses and so on.

The only real consistency between the various joints is the depths of the housing dadoes, which are all 3/8" (10 mm) deep.

My joints are variations on the theme. Some are through and some stopped. Another has a dovetail to the front end; we use these when we need an added mechanical aspect as a 'pull-resistance' factor: I've used them often on the cross rails between drawers to pull the cabinet sides in to bottom the housing dadoes out.

Life is like wood, it comes with knots in it. But it also comes with woodworm, spalting, full punky-rot, cracks, shrinkage and expansion along with other more negative susceptibilities. The alternatives are not acceptable to me and to my audience. We are not so much tolerant as accepting of the occasional inevitable realities of working with natural materials. I have accepted good quality plywoods but not low-grade alternatives, but I doubt that I will ever accept MDF or pressed fibreboard.

Elm is one of our more unusual hardwoods in that its whole infrastructure, though reliant on the same essential working components are the same as all other trees, the outcome of what its capillaries transport from root hair tips to leaf tips is a wood that’s not like any other. That’s why I say it...

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Last week I talked about life working wood that few might know today. A journey through youth to adult life, maturing through migration to live and work as a maker in the USA. No one could have imagined my life. Not one ounce of it would have matched anything of their world, nor any other I ever knew of. Looking back on my own unfolding life, I never met any others that took anywhere like the one I took. Most people are worried about risk, looking foolish to their friends and colleagues, and would never sell up their entire family home and belongings, nor go to live permanently on a continent 5,000 miles from home without the secure promise of some kind of future life elsewhere. Life for the majority is clearly about self-safety, low- and no- risk enterprises, with mainly a gym-safe security for health exercise rather than whitewater kayaking, freeclimbing rock faces over 250 feet and real mountain climbing without Sherpa guides rather than dropping trees in a Texan wilderness, deserts really, nor are they about driving penniless to shows two thousand miles through four other states in a beaten-up 30-year-old Ford Country Squire station wagon with 400,000 miles on the clock and, dare I say, on threadbare tires. Monarch Pass in January snow blizzards, just over 11,300 feet, puts Snowdon's 1,000 into foothill realms, and the magnificence can never be compared with hills you never see the top of for thick cloud.

Even in summer, snow often remains in pockets, but in winter, the story is very different. One of my trips was in January when the roads were bad enough for me to pull over to fit snow chains when I found those that came with the old car were not for my size of wheels.

Yes, my Life is somewhat more sedately paced in some ways, but I am still impressed to keep encouraging my fellow man even when they insist on comparing handwork to machining wood, the two of which have only the barest minimal of connections when it comes to skill building and the whole immersive experience I get from hand work. It bothers me all the less which methods people use, what might irritate me the more is any consideration that the two are one and the same, and it's just a matter of choice. My world is far more diverse, much healthier and absolutely richer. No question. Unless you have truly developed hand skills to a substantial degree, and that means a couple of weeks full on in terms of time, not all at one go, you cannot understand that of which I speak. In most cases, when `i speak of what I know about handwork, the eyes of machinist woodworkers glaze over in a few seconds. At best, they try to extrapolate some kind of legitimate comparison to persuade me differently. About five magazine editors over the last three decades have tried too, the truth was, they didn't know either. They often developed their knowledge by reading, writing giftedly and only minimally doing. Sorry, but that comes from personal interactions and relating to them!

This adventure launched us into online teaching, and our early videos were filmed from inside the castle walls. Imagine being given a handful of ordinary tools, about ten, and a workbench and walking out with a beautiful rocking chair.

So, here I am in a small village of 4,000 called Odiham at a woodworker's venue called Cross Barn and will shortly be surrounded by a mass-congregation of woodworkers making me feel settled and very much at home. It's been a while since I gave any kind of public talk, but meeting Trevor a few months ago and him asking whether I might consider speaking sparked something in me. He had recently come to my workshop, and he intrigued me as we talked about his input into the lives of younger people himself. He's one of the few people that took my investment and started reaching out to them by teaching hand work. Trevor is a gentle soul, kindly, easy to be with. He seemed to know everything about me through following our online work. Our exchange revolved around woodworking, woodworking with children, and then his association with an association of woodworkers just over an hour's drive from me if the weather's good and outside of connecting arterial roads to city lives. When the day came to travel, in heavy, incessant rain there and back, it seemed like a good idea at the time. I was thankful for Joseph volunteering to come with me. The journey is shorter with company, and satnavs often need a nudge at complex intersections on unknown routes.

This was the Men's Sheds talk I gave a few years ago. I enjoyed that talk too. One day, I hope to do this again. These organisations need our support all the more.

The days ahead of my visit prompted me to be more thoughtful about what I might want †o say. I prodded myself with thought-provoking considerations, thinking of the significance woodworking had had on me throughout my life, but then three and more decades trying to dismantle the commercial impact that changed woodworking to become machine-only practices where everything made now came off a rotary cut from carbide-tipped cutterheads and blades of all kinds. The effect on people wanting to just make an occasional piece, a coffee table or perhaps a wedding gift of some kind, every now and then, something for a granddaughter, something like that, has been quite remarkable. Imagine, needing five machines of different types just to make a few pieces every few years! I know, I'm exaggerating some here.

Snowdon will always have a special place in my life. It was where I spent my younger days climbing and beachcombing with my family. I also had some special neighbours living in the Llandygai Village next to the Penrhyn Castle where I had my UK woodworking school workshop, New Legacy.

My life experience as a full-time, lifetime maker of 98% handmade pieces seems to me, at least, to be unparalleled in that I haven't really met many, if any, who have actually spent as long as I have working wood in self-employed ways, travelling through life as a maker and then going most of it alone much of the time. On this evening I didn't want to be just an interesting 'guest speaker', though that's important too. Time is important to me, and I wanted this Southern Fellowship of Woodworkers to feel inspired enough to investigate other options where needed. I was altogether sure that these woodworkers would be like all the others I ever meet, and by that, I mean in my more amateur realms rather than so-called 'professional' ones—those fascinated by possibilities, interested in every new discovery and no matter how small, excitingly interesting, considerate in passing on any ability and knowledge they might have to others. That sort of thing. No trade secrets here!

My work teaching in the US ended with a cluster of hands-on classes in and around 2012. This New York class was a beginner class, but we did complete a month-long workshop that enabled many woodworkers to transition into full-time making.

Another key difference in my world was the reality that children these days are highly unlikely to experience real woodworking of any kind, even machining parts of it. Children can not work with or near to ultra-dangerous machines, and that, by its very nature, leaves 98% of them outside the workshop doors during the most critical era of formative learning. If that was true in my day, how much more today with the advent of mobile phones and total access to the internet twenty-four-seven? The competition for things of interest today is unparalleled in history. It's all about the scarce recognition that we rarely have enough time to PAY FOR ATTENTION! Also true, another reality, The majority of those youngsters wanting to do woodworking would be held firmly outside the machine shop doors for obvious safety issues that must never be ignored. The simple reality is this; it's not just the machinist-user who is in danger. Those standing or working within close proximity to machines, mostly a single-car garage-sized space and such, are in equal levels of danger. Anything that can wrong will likely go wrong for everyone and wood and splinters fly, when wood explodes from the impact of a three-horse-power motor, wood splits without warning and people can forget where they are and become disoriented. Furthermore, which young person, when having access to a mobile device of any kind, wants to stand around listening to the scream of machines watching someone else make all the cuts for them anyway? School woodworking and D&T (Design and Technology UK). It's no wonder we have seen half a decade of rapid decline in woodworking around the whole world. I recall not too long ago the racks in every UK supermarket and bookstore having several linear feet of dedicated space for DIY woodworking magazines for sale. But it was the editors that shot themselves in the foot by prioritising machine methods in 98% of their pages. How short-sighted they were. For the main part, they simply regurgitated the same old, same old every few months. There are only so many moulds you can make with a power router and so many straight cuts from a tablesaw.

Another adventure unfolded when I started my UK school from an old farmyard on the Isle of Anglesey as the snow started falling on my wood and the only place I could use machines outside.

Funny enough, I think, the majority of richer, machine-only woodworkers actually believe that these others, the ones yet to discover woodworking for themselves, could own machines like they do; that this was available to all, and that it was really the only way forward. Owning a few dedicated machines and a workspace large enough to house them does speak of being well-off and better off than the majority. My outreach is to both the well-off and those not well-off. This is based on my reality that my work will indeed equal the cuts made using a chop saw, power planer, and tablesaw but that it takes real effort and skill to do it and that it is well worth the cognitive development of making three-dimensionally and probably 4D. With time, many cuts actually become quicker––even with the need for further refining with a second or third tool. Starting from scratch, any dovetail I make will be faster than machining it, and it will always fit straight off the saw. But I know that if I need a thousand identical dovetails, a power router and jig will repeat the process a thousand times faster. But, go ahead, ask yourself, who needs a thousand dovetails outside of industry anyway? Machines have the capacity to always deliver dead-square cuts and that could never be achieved using hand tools in the same time, but there is much more to woodworking than the square and straight cuts you get. And it's this that my audience wants. It's the realness of high-demand woodworking.

It feels like I could just have made about a thousand of these but lost count. I made on in every box-making class alongside the students I taught, and that is thousands of students.

It's easy to forget that machines demand big-foot footprints and dedicated spaces around each piece of kit, volumes of investment, and more beyond. I have spent 30 years proving that 98% can't and never could or would have access to such wealthy woodworking, and that once that thoughtful consideration passed, the minute was lost, and those looking for the new hobby moved on with a sense of loss and impossibility. We're talking thousands upon thousands of pounds, whereas hand tools might cost less than £300 for a complete kit and a relatively compact workbench will make every stick and stem to furnish a home with 60 pieces of high-end furniture. 98%, that's my using the reference ninety-eight percent, is a favourite number in percentages for me—it's arbitrary, of course. I picked out what I could from my lived life as what others refer to now as an influencer. Actually, inspirer suits better.

This is roughly what a month-long class looks like. Absolute success and no school in the world had expectations like this: a dovetailed box, a wall shelf, an oak end table, an oak coffee table, a pine tool box replete with raised panels and two drawers, and an oak rocking chair in 26 days with all the students having minimal or zero hand tool experience. Oh, how we have dumbed down expectations for hand tool woodworking.

Success usually speaks positively for itself because mostly the unsuccesses rarely get a mention. Of course, we must take care not to give the impression of total success when ten failures prefaced the reality of the risks you took for your one eventual success. The truth is, success can be staged performances based on small gains through lesser failures at each successive rather than successful level––most of them are simply serendipitous bolt-ons. You persevered, of course you did. It's all too easy to give others the impression that you planned the whole thing and that there were never any failures, that you planted each stepping stone to get where you are, whereas for me, failure seems always to undergird some measure of ultimate success in someone who didn't give up. It's one thing letting go of something and another being discarded, and it's one thing discarding something and another recognizing it's your time to move on. But I fleshed out ideas that seemed to expand positively from time to time. Rarely, if talking about wood to woodworkers, will I ever be stuck to relate to others on common ground somewhere, and that's because my woodworking comes from a wholly lived life of daily experience. If I took any one-year span of my life, I could relate to others through the wood in it, simply because it was the life I'd lived. Any given year would give me sixty diversely different woodworking topics, from making mesquite birdhouses to mesquite credenzas for the Cabinet Room of the White House.

Joseph and Kat joined me in New York to help with the class. It's always special having them along with me.

Joseph coming with me to Odiham was nice for me. I think our relationship is remarkable. The deep gutter-water, hydroplaning, and such made the trip interesting, but we arrived safely and dead on time and at the right place. The evening dark surrounded us as we parked by the Cross Barn venue. We were to meet with a smaller group at the Red Lion pub for a tantalising menu for choosing supper. The ten or so of us sat for a good hour, discovering our common ground across the table. The venue was a five-minute saunter through the village.

This is Hannah's work I took to show off at the venue. Everyone loved it and all were surprised it was total handwork

My mixed feelings about presenting this night quickly evaporated with the crowds hovering in hospitality to greet both Joseph and myself. I was glad for his company and support, but he too has his own unique story that few fathers and sons working together through life have. It seems to me at least that he and I have been partners forever and in so many ways. I'm not really nervous about talking to a crowd, but more feeling that what I might share is more important to me than I first thought. You see, I am on the other side of the uncertainties early life can be paved with, the other side of unsuccesses the other side of seeking the approval of others. I'm not saying I have arrived, and then again, I feel in much of my life, I have. Living my kind of success is measured far less alongside famed people we might generally acknowledge as successful and more about the sense I have that I have actually achieved something quite substantive, an important objective through my isolation and ambition. To be 'there', after living 'out there', we must shed lots of the excess baggage we usually accumulate from many sources along the way. This often begins in childhood and passaging through life, we accumulate and accumulate like we do possessions. As I said, my life as a maker has never had bolt-ons in my designer-maker living designing many a thousand pieces and then doing 98% of all work using hand tools rather than machines. As a result, I have taught a thousand children how to work wood in traditional ways and then ten thousand woodworkers to strive for the more real experience of high-demand woodworking I consider to be hand tool woodworking. Take any segment of a working man's life with hand tools in it, and a story exists that most other woodworkers will be interested to hear of it. I had considered a couple of things, but critically I wanted to reach out to those there to reconsider their amount of handwork and to see how it might relate to others––people like those I had trained three decades ago when they were kids and then those in recent years, people, unusually, like Hannah. Hannah has been my only ever serious female to go through apprenticeship.

I enjoyed the evening. It went well.

Last week I talked about life working wood that few might know today. A journey through youth to adult life, maturing through migration to live and work as a maker in the USA. No one could have imagined my life. Not one ounce of it would have matched anything of their world, nor any other...

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