Marking gauges have all manner of ways for you to lock the head to the beam, but most involve a screw or wedge mechanism. I think the coolest method I've ever seen is a cam-lock on the vintage Star Tools gauge.

The head locks on the beam by twisting the head (or beam). It locks quite well, and without things shifting around like on some cheap gauges. Both the beam and the head look to my eye to have a fairly complex shape to create this interlock.

Boy was I wrong.

This week we're polishing up a story by Jim Crammond on how to make these gauges for the February 2010 issue of Popular Woodworking. I had to draw the gauge in SketchUp using Crammond's instructions. It seemed like a wack-nutty CAD exercise, so I blocked out about four hours to complete the drawings for publication.

It took about 15 minutes.

The shapes are simple and elegant. And once you understand how they work, these gauges are a cinch to make. I can't wait to build a few.

Below is a video that shows how one works. And check out the original patent application and drawings.

— Christopher Schwarz

We've added a wish list function to our store, which allows you to select products you would like to have and share the list without having to drop odd hints, such as leaving photos of author Ron Hock in the bathroom.

And if you fill out a wish list by Nov. 30, you will be entered in a drawing in which we'll select two lucky people who will win everything on their wish lists – up to $500. The winners will be announced in our Weekly Wood News newsletter.

If you want to get started, just click here.

What are woodworkers wishing for this year? Here are the top 10 most-requested items.

1. "Handplane Essentials"
2. Popular Woodworking 2000-2007 on CD
3. "Workbenches: From Design & Theory to Construction & Use"
4. "The Perfect Edge"
5. "Made By Hand"
6. "The Best of Christopher Schwarz" on CD
7. "The Best of Shops & Workbenches" on CD
8. "Hand Tool Essentials"
9. "The Best of Arts & Crafts" on CD
10. "Turning Basics for Furniture Makers" on DVD

And because we are twisted in the head, here are the 10 least-requested items. Poor chickadee.

1. What's Cookin? Plan
2. Treasure This Plan
3. Woodworking Magazine Issue 14
4. Popular Woodworking October 2007
5. Project: Clips N' Things
6. Project: Box in a Box
7. Project: Chickadee Cottage
8. Popular Woodworking October 2006
9. Project: American Kestral Sanctuary
10. Adirondack Chair and Footstool Woodworking Plan

Be sure to make your list before Nov. 30 to enter our contest.

— Christopher Schwarz

It's deer season here in Northern Kentucky. That means I have to wait in line at the butcher's shop next to camouflaged hunters waiting to get their deer "processed" into deer goetta and deer sausage.

It's also "Meagan Bench" season. Managing Editor Megan Fitzpatrick recently completed her workbench using laminated veneer lumber, which is on the cover of the November 2009 issue of Popular Woodworking. And yesterday, reader Meagan Kilrain sent me photos of her new workbench.

It has several interesting features that are worth discussing and thinking about. Let's take a look.

Materials
Kilrain (or Meagan II, as we will now call her around the office), used Glulam beams left over from a restaurant remodel for the top, and construction lumber for the base. The legs are 4x6s treated construction lumber left over from summer landscaping. The stretchers are untreated 2x6s. The vise chop is scrap from an Amish sawmill.

The Gluelam is some good stuff. It can come in nice widths already glued up for you – one of Kilrain's was 12" wide.

If you choose to use treated lumber in a bench, I think you need to be cautious. There are some nasty chemicals used to make the wood weather-resistant. I'd make my cuts outside, wear a monkey mask and avoid sanding it.

I might be a little overcautious about treated lumber because of personal experience. I visited a lumber treatment plant once, and it was like a big pressure cooker. They put the lumber and chemicals into a huge tube, seal it up and infuse the wood with the stuff. One of the workers at the plant noted that oftentimes small mammals would wander into the tube while the door was open to check it out. And then they never checked out, if you catch my drift.

The Top
Kilrain put one of the Glulam beams at the front and one at the rear. Between the two beams she made a tool tray. Most people know I'm not fond of tool trays (perhaps because I just make a mess in them), but Kilrain definitely scores points for making the bottom of the tray lift off to make it easy to clean and for clamping access.

This is a feature on Bob Lang's 21st-century Workbench, and he quite likes it.

The Base
The base is super-smart. The bottom stretcher is flush to the front of the legs. But the top stretcher is not. Kilrain makes everything work with a dose of cleverness. The deadman hooks onto the top stretcher. This gives her the ability to clamp things at the front of the bench. And it allows the deadman to slide back and forth while keeping its front flush to the front of the legs and bottom stretcher.

Also, points for the little scallop detail below the front stretcher. More curves ahead.

The Leg Vise and End Vise
Kilrain says this angled leg vise came out of her lack of confidence in mortising the leg. The results are pretty hard to argue with. Instead of making a mortise for the parallel guide, she made a dado in the side of the leg. Then she covered that over with a wooden plate. Instant mortise! And it's easy to tweak the joint for a good fit on the guide.

The vise screw is on the other side of the leg. And the swoopy curves of the vise are nice – plus there's a little cherry flash at the bottom of the oak chop.

The end vise uses the Eastern European hardware you can get at most woodworking stores. Kilrain discovered the same thing I did when I installed this vise for the first time about a decade ago:

"The installation learning curve is straight up the first time around." she wrote. "If I ever do this again, I'll opt for a ready-made end vise."

All in all, it's an excellent bench, especially considering the scavenged materials. It's completely functional and looks good to boot.

— Christopher Schwarz

I like corded drills – as long as it's an umbilical cord.

Actually, I do like my Makita corded drill for some things (mixing paint, for example). And I do like to use a battery drill when I have a heap of screws to drill and drive. But for most of my onesie-twosie jobs, I much prefer the meat-powered varieties of drills.

Now some beginning woodworkers get confused about what each boring instrument is used for. And, like people who buy a No. 1 plane all the way up to a No. 8 plane, they think you need all the tools to do good work. Not so.

Here are some of the common pork-powered drills in woodshops and their intended uses. I think you need one solution for small holes and one for big holes – though there is a lot of overlap and oddness ahead.

Gimlets
These little guys are – in their modern form – essentially a piece of wire that has been sharpened at one end and twisted into a handle at the other. Old gimlets were a drill bit mounted in a wooden handle. There are several flavors of gimlets (such as shell and wire-fret gimlets) but the vast majority are what we now call "twist gimlets."

These have a small screw thread at their point that then changes into your typical drill flutes, which are designed to remove waste from the hole. The smallest one I have is 5/64" in diameter, and R.A. Salaman's "Dictionary of Woodworking Tools" says they were available up to 3/8". That's a gutload of gimlet.

I like the little suckers. They're cheap. And they are handy when boring a few scant holes for nails when I'm toenailing the inside of a carcase. Do you want to use them for all your small holes? The answer is Socratic: Does your health insurance cover chronic wrist injuries?

Roy Underhill describes gimlets thusly:

"...(T)hey are a nuisance to sharpen, easily broken, kill your arm, and split the wood. Other than that, they're great."

Awls
Bradawls and birdcage awls are actually boring tools. They are ideal for making small holes in confined spaces. Or where you need a lot of control. I prefer the so-called bircage awl to the bradawl. The square shank of the birdcage awl scrapes a hole. The bradawl seems to mostly push fibers aside.

Hand Drills
These gizmos are what we call "eggbeater" drills and operate by turning a crank, which spins the chuck. After a 100 or so holes with a gimlet, these guys will seem like your best friend. They are, however, greatly limited by what size of bit they can spin. The biggest bit I can spin is about 1/4" – which is good because that is as big as the chuck is on the typical hand drill. The bits get pretty small, the smallest one in my kit is 1/16".

I've written a lot about hand drills, and I use them as much as I use my cordless electric drill. They have infinitely variable speed and torque. You can bore with immense precision by starting very slowly. They make a fun noise.

Look for ones that have a fully functional chuck – many are gummed up or the springs have sprung. And the side handle – sometimes called the "chef's hat"--  is a great place to hang on while you ride.

The hand drill is, to my eye, the more evolved member of the bow-drill family. This primitive form goes back to Egypt (at least). A stringed bow wraps around the shaft of the drill. Move the bow forward and the bit spins. Pull the bow back and it spins backwards. I've used them. There's a good reason that it looks like a Native American way of making fire.

Archimedean Drill

These tools are generally for small holes, sometimes very small holes. the shaft is a spiral. By moving the head up and down, the drill spins. They work, but their job has largely been supplanted by the hand drill. However, the technology lives on in the spiral screwdrivers that old-school carpenters and woodworkers still use – the spiral is just typically hidden by a steel sleeve.

To make bigger holes, there are different tools:

Breast Drills
These are the bigger cousins of the hand drill and work on the same principle. However, instead of being topped with a handle, they have a breastplate. This makes them ideal for drilling big holes while holding the drill horizontally. It's more of a home construction tool. I own one, but it's mostly for the kids to play with. I have yet to find the woodworking job that made me glad I had spent $5 on the tool.

The Brace
This crank-based tool is one of the most widely used boring tools in the woodshop. I've had one since I was a kid. With this tool you can do a remarkable range of work. If Ronco had been around in the 15th century, they would have made one of these tools. Not only do they bore holes – a typical 13-piece set of bits is 1/4" to 1" – but they are good for countersinking and driving screws. You can ream holes with them. Make round tenons. Create plugs. There are even special bits for reaming out the ends of trees so you can join them end-to-end into one giant floating raft.

Typical woodworking sizes of the brace range from a 6" throw (for wussies) up to the 14" throw (for those with gorilla arms). The most typical sizes are the 8" and 10" throw. The bigger the brace, the easier it is to turn the big bits. But you need more clearance. And you need to make sure you don't punch yourself in the liver.

They come in an almost infinite variety. There are all manner of nutty chucks. Crazy pads and handles. Byzantine ratcheting systems. Be sure to hunt down the rare Whimble brace. Not to buy it. But to wonder at it.

There are some jobs that the brace will do that will poop out a cordless drill or cook a corded one. Whenever I bore the dog holes in my workbenches, I use a brace. I think you should get one, too. But don't buy a new one. I've only seen stinky ones (including one with three jaws. Why?).

Do you research at Sanford Moss's site, save up $5 or $10 and go buy one.

Augers
Another old-school way of making big holes was to use an auger, which is essentially an enormous gimlet. There is a big bit with a big wooden T-handle. Many of the handles could accept a variety of bits. Augers work extremely well, though you really have to use them vertically, which isn't always an option in a shop.

I have some augers and break them out occasionally, though I much prefer my brace(es).

I'm sure I've forgotten some ways to make a hole (drips of water plus 10,000 years, pump drills, pillar drills, Passer drills), but these cover most of the tools I've had experience with. I think most woodworkers can get by with one tool for small holes and one tool for large holes. For me, I like the hand drill for small holes and a 10" brace for big ones.

— Christopher Schwarz

Mark Harrell of Bad Axe Tool Works just launched his new website this week. And in addition to pretty pictures of his new Bad Axe saws and details of his saw restoration and sharpening services, Harrell does the hand world a solid by offering free tutorials on how he restores vintage saws.

There are stories on removing rust, unlocking a frozen sawnut, restoring a handle (that one is particularly excellent) and even how to pack a saw to ship it.

We're all big fans of Bad Axe here (just read this review), and in case you are just tuning in to this blog, Harrell also offers speed and reasonable resharpening and restoration services. If you have a rusty saw, start the restoration using Harrell's instructions. Then send it to him for sharpening. A sharp saw is a revelation.

Check out the new site at badaxetoolworks.com.

— Christopher Schwarz

Sometimes I feel a tad guilty for owning tools from Veritas, Lie-Nielsen and Blue Spruce. But then I pick up my very first chisel and I get over it.

I've had that chisel since I graduated from college – it's a 1/2" chisel I bought at WalMart and it's branded Popular Mechanics (is that an example of irony? I can't tell. I'm American).

In any case, I think I have butter knives at home that hold a better edge and are more balanced for dovetailing than this tool. Its blade was probably 5" long when I bought it, and now it's been ground down to 3-3/4". I thought about throwing it away, but I just can't.

So I recently sharpened it up for my 8-year-old daughter and made a nice little blade cover from a business card. She was thrilled with the tool. This weekend she used it for some light chopping and paring. After about 15 minutes, the tool's edge folded over.

If this were an isolated incident, I wouldn't be blogging about it. So many inexpensive modern tools that I've encountered don't even deserve to be in the tool crib of the store. My first miter box saw was American-made and made badly. Same with my first combination square, block plane and even hammer.

Who can mess up a hammer?

I'm sure you're thinking: Why didn't this idiot Arkansan buy vintage tools? Well, I stumbled on old tools all the time at the antiques fair in a tobacco warehouse that my wife and I went to every month. But to my inexperienced eye, all I could see was rust and grime. The tools at WalMart were shiny. And there was no Internet to help guide me.

As I watched my daughter struggle with a dull chisel, I concluded that I was going to stop calling these things "tools." Tools have to work at some baseline. Chisels have to do a certain amount of work before they crap out on you. Saws have to cut wood – crazy, I know. Combination squares should be somewhat square. Anything less is just an object decorating your garage wall.

The new tools that perform these basic functions are what we now call "premium" tools. But no more.

This morning I re-ground and honed that cursed chisel-shaped object and it's sitting on my bench. I should bring home a good tool for Katy and throw this thing away.

Or perhaps we have some paint cans that need opening.

— Christopher Schwarz

At the risk of enraging the powerful pen-turning cabal, I gotta say that I've never been enthralled by making pens or bottle stoppers on my lathe.

Life would be easier if I did embrace my mini-lathe, especially at Christmas. Instead I end up building furniture for the people I love. One year I made cutting boards with a Spirograph-like router design. Other years I've built Shaker boxes (too many to count).

This year I'm enlisting the whole family to make woodblock stamps and custom stationery. I think it's a stroke of genius – sort of like the washcloth dispenser cabinet I invented. (I'm still waiting to make a million off that one.)

So this weekend, my daughter Katy and I headed down to the shop for a couple hours to putz around with my idea. I printed out a sample design on the laser writer – I chose dividers from Joseph Moxon's "Mechanick Exercises." Then I stuck it down to the face grain of some scrap cherry and started carving away at the waste using my grandfather's small-scale carving tools and a couple knives. Katy worked on one, too.

Within 20 minutes I had the stamp shown above. Then we went to Staples and bought 100 blank invitations for about $20 (look for these in the "Shotgun Wedding" department). And a pad of gel ink for $5 that was good for 100,000 impression (yeah, right).

After some experiments, we found we got the best results working with a piece of leather (we used a tool roll) underneath the paper. In about 10 minutes we stamped 20 cards and matching envelopes.

Here's our plan: For each deserving person, I'm going to carve the initial of their last name into a 2" x 2" stamp. The kids will stamp their hearts out and we'll all bundle up the stationery in a ribbon and put them in a box with their wooden stamp and a stamp pad.

Total cost per person: about $12 plus a couple hours of work.

That sounds a lot better than building a few bookcases, a gross of Shaker boxes or eleventy-billion pens.

— Christopher Schwarz

Reader Aaron Cashion writes:

"Watched your DVD about drawboring today after reading your 'Workbenches' book. Really enjoyed both. I had never heard of drawboring, and this will defintely be going into my arsenal. Where can I get a good eggbeater style hand drill? Are there new quality ones being made or should I go the eBay route and look for a vintage one? I prefer to buy quality and not some Asian import for $4.99."

Ah Aaron, I relish opening this can of oligochaetes.

I have yet to encounter a newly manufactured eggbeater drill that I like. That doesn't mean there aren't any. I've always been curious about this drill from Germany. However, I've never seen one boring in the wild.

Most of the eggbeaters – more properly called "hand drills" – that I've used have been from the venerable Millers Falls company. This company made a shocking quantity and variety of these drills, and you can learn all about the different models here at Old Tool Heaven.

In the Midwest and East, you can find these tools at almost any antique store, flea market or garage sale. I typically pick them up for $5 to $15 when they are in good working order. Look for a chuck that has jaws that open and close properly (they can be missing their springs). You want the gear train to move smoothly – through usually a little cleaning and lubrication can fix things up.

Typical hand drills will be missing their removable side handles, so snatch up any that of those that you stumble on.

These drills come up every darn day on eBay, though you cannot tell if the thing is clapped out. Here's a search script that will take you to a page of drills. However, I prefer to take my drills for a spin before spending my American dollars.

The other option is to spend a bit more and get a drill that is better than new.

Wiktor Kuc of New Mexico buys these old drills and rebuilds them so that they look and work better than when they came from the factory. I've had a few of Wiktor's drills pass through my hands, and all I can say is that the man charges far too little for the work he does. If drill restoration is an art form, Wiktor is the Leonardo.

You can purchase these drills from Wiktor at his web site wktools.com. You might have to wait a bit for one, but it's worth it.

— Christopher Schwarz

This year I tried to keep my teaching and traveling schedule fairly light so I could spend more time tinkering with our magazines, assembling books such as "Handplane Essentials" and hanging out with my wife and two girls.

For 2010, my failings as a spouse, parent and diligent editor are your gain.

I've decided to teach a few select classes in 2010. I really missed teaching, the close contact I get with readers and the stuff I learn from them. Teaching helps me with my job at the magazine. I would have never written the book "Workbenches," for example, if I hadn't watched students struggle on sub-par benches.

Here is a quick roundup of my calendar for 2010 in case you want to do a drive-by heckle.

February 26-27: Atlanta Woodcraft in Alpharetta, Ga. I'll be teaching two one-day classes. One day will be on precision sawing. The other class is still up in the air. The classes aren't posted yet on the store's web site. I might also get to see one of my sisters during this trip – she and her family split their time between Atlanta and St. Louis.

March 27-28: Northeastern Woodworkers Association's Showcase in Saratoga Springs, N.Y. I love this woodworking show. It's the perfect blend of education, demonstrations, a gallery and commerce. I've been asked to teach short seminars this year on two topics: "Mastering Joinery Planes," which are the essential planes for cutting and refining joints and how to choose, sharpen and use them. And "Why Ancient Workbenches are Better," which is a slideshow trip through history to understand how many modern workbenches are failures at some important workholding tasks.

April 24-25: Handplane Weekend at the Marc Adams School of Woodworking: I love this class. Essentially, I assist Thomas Lie-Nielsen as we introduce students to the basics of choosing, setting up and using handplanes. Plus we have a few fun planing contests.

Sept. 13-17: Hand Joinery at Dick Gmbh – Fine Tools in Metten, Germany: I don't speak a lick of German (OK, I can order beer), yet, the nice people at Dick, a very large supplier of woodworking supplies, have asked me to come teach a class in basic hand joinery. We'll be building a small cabinet from the Hancock community as part of the class. Also, David Charlesworth will be teaching at Dick that same week. I'm either going to have to bone up on some German or start practicing mime.

Sept. 25-26: Nine Essential Handplanes at the Marc Adams School of Woodworking: This is a new course I developed this year that I'm quite excited about. We're going to take a deep dive into the details of the nine most essential planes of the craft: the jack, jointer, smoother, fillister, plow, shoulder, router, scraper and block planes. Each plane has its own personality and is sharpened, set up and used differently. We're going to take two days to master these tools so you can use them with complete confidence in your shop at home or work.

Oct. 23-24: Hand Tool Boot Camp at Kelly Mehler's School of Woodworking: This is another new course I developed this year. It is, in essence, how to get started in hand tools in a fairly painless way (by that I mean how to do it without spending tons of money). The course focuses on learning the basic skills with a few select tools and then gradually expanding your reach until you have a serious problem and need professional help. We also will build the Hancock cabinet shown above.

My other goal for 2010 is to take a class myself. Since the day I started woodworking I've been hankering to take a Windsor Chair class from Mike Dunbar at The Windsor Institute. I've visited the school on a couple occasions for photo shoots and just love it. And Mike is one of my heroes. A great teacher, a scholar and a funny guy. This is the year.

— Christopher Schwarz

Ever since I saw George Walker's DVD on furniture design and his lecture at Woodworking in America, I've been trying out some of his ideas on pieces of furniture that I know and love. With a pair of dividers (and sometimes a beer) I've been walking around the drawings and thinking about shapes, proportions and punctuation.

This summer I built a simple English chest of drawers for one of my daughters that was based on an 1839 plan. I like everything about this chest (except the way one of the drawers reflects light), so I've been exploring this piece to see what else it has to teach me.

The underlying shape of the chest is a square, which is fairly common for this piece of furniture. So it was no surprise to encounter this simple shape.

First I explored the base and its relationship to the height and width of the case. The base is one-fifth of the height, and each foot is one-fifth of the length of the chest.

Looking closer at the drawer heights, the top drawers are 6" high and the bottom drawer is 9" high. That's a simple 2:3 proportion that Walker points out is used in graduating many parts, such as the width of rails in a frame-and-panel door.

I'm going to poke around this piece some more tonight. If you'd like to read more on this topic, check out some of Walker's latest entries on his blog. And wait until you see his first column in the February 2010 issue of Popular Woodworking (I got to read over the final layout today – neener, neener). I think you'll be hooked.

— Christopher Schwarz

Making a workbench that is both massive and mobile is no small feat. Most of the approaches I have seen have one of the following complications:

1. The mobile base is outboard of the legs. You trip on them. You need new front teeth.
2. The mobile base has "locking" wheels that fail to "lock" completely.
3. The mobile base has spindly wheels that cannot climb a single layer of sawdust.
4. The mobile base is very complicated or expensive.

This week, reader Phil Donehower of North Carolina sent me photos of the mobile base he installed in the legs of his French-style workbench. I think his idea has real merit and might help spark some neurons in your own noggin.

Here's how it works. The hardware lives in a cavity in the bottom of each leg and is raised and lowered by all-thread rod that runs from the casters up to the benchtop.

Donehower began with four 2" swivel-plate casters and attached them to 1-1/2" x 2" rectangular steel tubing that he cut to the same size as the caster plate. (See here for the tubing: http://www.speedymetals.com/s-202-rectangular-tube.aspx).

He attached the 1/2" x 13tpi all-thread rod to the steel tubing using 1/2"x 13tpi hex nuts and washers. The all-thread runs through a 1/2" steel hanger plate attached to each leg (see http://www.duffcompany.com/catalog/hangers.pdf for details).

To raise and lower the casters he uses a screwdriver to turn the all-thread rod through holes in the benchtop.

In my never-ending effort to meddle, I wonder if instead of a screwdriver you could modify the all-thread to accept a nut driver that is chucked in a cordless drill. That would be fast and easy.

In any case, Donehower said the system works great and cost him only about $40 in materials.

— Christopher Schwarz

In the interest of full disclosure, the following book – "The Perfect Edge" – is being published by my parent company, F+W Media. Also, I consider the author, Ron Hock, a good friend. Oh, and once I got on stage and shook it with a belly dancer in Greece after too many grape leaves and shots of ouzo.

OK, now that all that's on the table, I think I can also say I'm a big fan of the two other big sharpening books out there: "The Complete Guide to Sharpening" by Leonard Lee (Taunton) and "Taunton's Complete Illustrated Guide to Sharpening" by Thomas Lie-Nielsen. I've also sharpened a few tools in the last 15 years using everything from a brick to a $1,000 electric-powered record player.

So let's get the most important question out of the way. If you already own the books by Lee or Lie-Nielsen, do you need "The Perfect Edge?" Well, unless you are a sharpening geek, no. All three books are outstanding works, in my opinion. All three will teach you how to sharpen a wide variety of tools. All three will take you from rank amateur to a zero-radius-intersection connoisseur.

If, however, you don't own a book on sharpening, I think "The Perfect Edge" should be at the top of the list, if only for the fact that it covers the latest innovations in sharpening equipment and is written in a very breezy style that makes the technical information easy to digest.

Hock is one of the founding fathers of the hand-tool renaissance that has been blossoming during the last 20 years. He started out supplying plane irons to James Krenov and his students at the College of the Redwoods. From that modest beginning, Hock Tools grew to sell all sorts of blades, tools and even shellac through his company in Northern California. In fact, the term "Hock blade" is almost becoming the generic term for an aftermarket plane iron.

So Hock knows a good deal about woodworking tools, steel and sharpening. And what is remarkable is that this ironmonger also happens to be a fine writer. Reading about sharpening can be, for the lack of a better expression, a real grind. There's a lot to know about abrasives, steel, ergonomics, lubricants and (if you are lucky) common sense.

As a long-time sharpener, I think Hock did a better job of explaining the abrasive side of the sharpening equation than anyone else. "The Perfect Edge" finally made the light bulb go on in my head on the topic of how different abrasives work the steel.

Hock's book also is strong in other areas. While all three books do a fine job of explaining how to sharpen chisels and plane irons, "The Perfect Edge" really does an excellent job with turning tools, knives and saws as well.

Hock also covers all the new powered sharpening equipment and many of the honing guides on the market today. It's quite up-to-date for a book. Plus, I think the photography is great. It's sharp and gets right up on the action – plus Hock offer pages and pages of microscopic images of edges, which are very helpful for anyone trying to understand how steel becomes sharp and then dull again.

One last point of disclosure is in order here. Though I got to read Hock's book in its entirety before it went to the printer, I had absolutely nothing to do with the effort to get it written, photographed, edited and published.

But I wish I had.

"The Perfect Edge" is now available for pre-order in our store for $29.99. The book is scheduled for general release in December, when it will be available from suppliers nationwide. Oh, and here's a little hint: If you want a copy signed by Hock himself, you can order the book through the Hock Tools web site.

During one visit to an art school, I saw a lot of things. But it was the French fry boxes that made my head hurt.

Scattered throughout the school were student works that clearly were furniture (i.e. you could sit upon them). Others clearly were art (they were just for looking at). But there were some pieces of work that defied categorization. In fact, at some point I started asking myself: "Hmmm. Is that thing art or garbage?"

Out by the loading dock was a weathered plank of wood propped up against the wall. It had some pieces of wood rudely attached to its backside. Was this a low bench? An art installation? Or a piece of trash waiting to be taken to the curb?

Out by the school's fountain was a pile of grease-stained White Castle French fry containers.

"Ah," I said. "Clearly this is garbage."

But once I got closer I saw the containers were attached. Was this a White Castle wind sock?

I find that pieces of so-called "studio furniture" can be a challenge to appreciate and enjoy. They challenge our perceptions of form, material and function. Truth be told, I quite like the stuff on the whole. I have several books from The Furniture Society on studio furniture and its makers that I always enjoy reading and browsing through.

But it would be foolish to think that studio furniture is a modern invention.

Though you might disagree with me, I think a piece of studio furniture has the following components. It is a piece of furniture that is both designed and built by an individual. And that person is trying to create a new style of furniture that stands apart from other historical forms.

James Krenov was likely the most famous of these makers. Art Carpenter, George Nakashima and Sam Maloof were all what I would call "studio makers."

And if you look at the history of furniture, you'll find studio furniture makers there such as Charles Rohlfs. Check out the quote from him on this page. How about William Morris? Nope. He wasn't a builder. Thomas Chippendale? I think yes. Thomas Sheraton or George Hepplewhite? Again, I think yes.

That got us to thinking: Who in history would be the earliest known studio furniture maker? We need a name (not just "caveman") and they have to be a known designer and builder.

— Christopher Schwarz

Despite my Southern friendliness, I have bit of a mean streak.

On Thursday we visited George Walker's home and workshop in Canton, Ohio, to shoot some photos for his upcoming articles on furniture design for Popular Woodworking.

We scouted the first floor of his house and looked at a very nice tall case clock he built, plus a drop-dead gorgeous secretary. Both are in kicking tiger maple (Mr. Walker has a tiger maple monkey on his back).

When we met to pick a project to feature in the photograph, I chose a nailed-together pine boot bench with a routed heart-shaped cutout on either end.

"This piece would nicely show off your ideas about whole-number ratios and column orders, don't you think?" I asked.

"I was just taking that piece to the curb," Walker said.

After that wild piece of hilarity, Walker showed us around his shop in his basement. The workshop's centerpiece is a Frank Klausz-inspired workbench and a wall of hand tools. Walker, a long-time woodworker, uses surprisingly few machines. He has a 1949 Delta Unisaw, a lathe, a drill press and a planer out in the garage. Everything else is hand tools.

As Art Director Linda Watts and Photographer Al Parrish worked on setting up the photos, I shot a few other photos of Walker's cozy shop, shown below.

My favorite workshop accessory: A faded upholstered easy chair.

"What shop doesn't have a chair like that?" Walker asked.

I now know what my shop at home is missing.

— Christopher Schwarz

Linda and Al working on a test image.

Some of Walker's planes in the cabinet behind his bench.

Walker's hanging tool cabinet.

Though I need another sliding bevel like I need a goat in my living room, I recently ordered one of the new sliding bevels from Chris Vesper Tools in Australia and have been putting it through its paces.

I reviewed Vesper's sliding bevels in the April 2009 issue of Popular Woodworking. I also wrote about Vesper for the Fine Tool Journal – you can read the article for free here. Yes, Vesper is that young. (One female editor on our staff has used the word "cherubic" – not "Cherubinic.")

If you are too lazy to click though the link above, let me boil down the story: Vesper makes the best sliding bevel I've ever used. This is both very difficult and very easy to do. It's easy to make a really good sliding bevel because almost all of them on the market suck eggs. They don't lock well. Or when they are locked, the locking mechanism won't let the tool lay flat on the work.

Do the manufacturers not actually use this tool?

Vesper's bevels use a locking mechanism based on an old patent. And it locks down better than anything else I've ever used. And the locking knob never – repeat, never – gets in your way.

So what's new about this particular bevel? There's no wooden infill. Instead, Vesper added a nice engraving on both faces of the tool. This actually reduces the cost of the tool a bit. And in my opinion, it looks as nice as the one with the infill.

These don't come cheap. The 7" bevel cost about $160 U.S. – what with the sorry state of the U.S. dollar compared to the Australian dollar. But I like Vesper's work, and was more than happy to open my wallet in the name of a bevel I don't have to worry about every time I reach for it during a project.

— Christopher Schwarz

Congratulations to Randy Klein and his family for their portrayal of Norm Abram at all phases of his life, from a small mischievous boy up to a full-grown bearded woman (just kidding about that, Mr. Abram).

The Kleins won via universal acclaim for several reasons: Convincing an entire family to do something this crazy, and the looks on the kids' faces. We suspect the kids are all up to no good and we're glad to see safety glass on the whole lot.

The Kleins win a "New Yankee Workshop" coffee mug that is autographed by Norm Abram himself. Abram signed the mug for Publisher Steve Shanesy. Randy Klein has three choices: keep the mug as-is, rub off Steve's name or Randy can change his name to "Steve." We're also going to throw in a two-year subscription to either Popular Woodworking or Woodworking Magazine – just because we can.

We've posted some of our other favorites in a Flickr slideshow, which you can view here. Below are some of our favorite runners-up:

OK, we're suckers for kids dressed like Norm.

Three generations of Norm! Excellent.

This footwear isn't so good for the shop – no steel toes.

— Christopher Schwarz

I finished up building a set of try squares based on Andre Roubo's 18th-century plans this weekend and need to put the finish on them. What's holding me back? Well, I keep using the squares and getting pencil marks on the blades, which need to be removed before I can finish them.

I really like these try squares. Though the blade is more than 13-1/2" long, the whole square weighs only 7 ounces. Its stock is narrower than that of a traditional rosewood and brass square, and I'm surprised by how comfortable the square is to hold, carry and use.

Plus, I really like the traditional look. The cavetto in the stock and the ogee shape on the blade add a little flair to a usually rectilinear (read: boring) tool. Plus, they were a blast to make. All of the elements of construction required great care, but because the tool is so simple, it never got tedious (like when you have to dovetail an entire chest of drawers).

Those people who have a Starrett addiction are probably shaking their heads right now and fondling their dial calipers to comfort themselves. Won't these wooden squares be inaccurate? Even if you did square them to .001" along their length, they certainly wouldn't stay that way. They are, after all, made of wood.

I'm not in the least bit worried. I used well-seasoned, quartersawn stuff that I prepared with great care. The squares are quite square enough for woodworking. Besides, I have found that my accuracy isn't contained in my measuring tools. It's in my eyes, my fingers and the ultimate fit of the parts. Fussing over the minute accuracy of tools is like fussing over a smoothing plane to make it remove sub-thou shavings. It misses the point. The point is the finished product, not the tool's setup.

I documented the entire process of building these squares, and we're going to offer complete downloadable plans for the square at a nominal cost. It will include photos, text, the SketchUp drawing, full-size templates and instructions for building and truing the squares so they are as accurate as possible. We even shot a little video.

Look for it next week.

— Christopher Schwarz

I quite like round dog holes in workbenches. They are easier to install than square dogs, plus you can use a wide variety of other bench gizmos in them.

But they can have a dark side. I have the Veritas brass dogs in my bench(es), and  used them for many years without incident – until last week.

I had a dog up a little too high and slammed the iron of a jack plane against it. The good news is that the dog didn't scrape the plane's sole. The bad news is that I have a grinding chore ahead of me to repair the iron.

I've been contemplating making some wooden round dogs, but I've also been contemplating taking a carving class, installing a wooden floor in my shop, replacing the doors on my kitchen cabinets and buying a goat. You know how that goes.

— Christopher Schwarz

In honor of "International Dress Like Norm Day" (the official celebration begins tomorrow), a fair number of us dressed like our favorite television woodworker.

Because of the short notice, neither Megan Fitzpatrick nor Bob Lang had time to grow proper beards. But they are bearded on the inside, I promise you.

Don't forget to send in a photo of yourself dressed like Norm Abram and send it to me by midnight Monday, Nov. 2, at chris.schwarz@fwmedia.com. The person who sends in the best photo (as determined by our staff), will win a great prize. What's the prize? We're still working on that.

— Christopher Schwarz

Inspired by Robert W. Lang's article on making wooden try squares in the Autumn 2009 issue, I decided to make a batch of squares this weekend.

Yesterday at lunch I bought some quartersawn European steamed beech that was on sale at the local lumberyard. The clerk at the yard described it as "rustic," which must be a local Ohio term meaning "crap." I found one 12' board in the whole stack that had enough straight material suitable for making layout tools.

The price was right ($1.25 a board foot). And after a lot of handsawing and bandsawing last night I squeezed out enough beech to make seven squares and two nice bonfires.

Then the fun began.

And by fun, I mean translating 18th-century French. I spent an hour poring over "Le Menuisier En Batiment," one of Andre Roubo's volumes on the craft. He wrote specific instructions for the dimensions of a "triangle," which is what he calls a square. I translated those dimension to English and then to modern Imperical dimensions. A French inch (pouce) is equivalent to 1.066" in modern imperial. Each French inch is further divided into 12 "lines." Each line is equivalent to .088" today. The French foot is 12.44".

Then I checked Roubo's account against the try squares in Benjamin Seaton's tool chest. And surprise, Seaton's small wooden square is almost exactly the same size as Roubo's, though Roubo's is fancier.

But there was one curious detail about Seaton's three try squares. The text describing them says all three blades taper in thickness. One blade is described as tapering from 1/4" thick to 7/32". Because all three taper, I presume it was deliberate. But why?

To take some weight off the end of the blade?

To expose more end grain of the blade (sort of like in a coffin smoother or a traditional straightedge) to make the blade respond faster to seasonal changes in humidity?

Beats me. I drew up Roubo's square in SketchUp and plan to make a few of the squares with tapered blades. If Roubo mentioned tapering, I missed it.

I like it when the name of something is eponymous – it fits. Was there ever a woodworker who was more aptly named than the late "Art Carpenter?"

When I was working as a newspaper reporter, I dealt occasionally with a spokesman named "Woody Forrest." I don't even know if that guy was a woodworker. Why isn't my name "Woody Forrest?"

Instead, I've had to endure a name that (according to our dog-eared dictionary of baby names) means: A Christ-like war-monger who is black in color.

So when it comes to the names of handplanes, I get frustrated with names such as "jack" plane, "block" plane or "Jenny" plane. Those names don't really describe what the plane does. I much prefer names such as "rabbet" plane or "smoothing" plane.

To that end, I've been trying to clean up my language when talking or writing about planes. It's easy to get mired in even less-helpful terms such as "a No. 6 plane" or a "Stanley No. 141." As someone remarked to me once: "I'm sorry. I don't speak 'Stanley.'"

So here's how I organize my bench planes in my mind using historical names that imply their function.

Fore Plane: Sure, it sounds a bit ribald, but Joseph Moxon tells us that this tool, which is about 18" long, is called a fore plane because it is used "before" the other planes. You could call it a roughing plane if you like, but the name "fore plane" implies its function to me.

Try Plane: According to Charles Holtzapffel, a trying plane is 20" to 22" long and is used for flattening a panel or "trying its accuracy." The modern term for a tool that's this length would be a "jointer plane," but that's actually a confusing term in my book. When you make a board flat, you are trying it. So what better plane is there than a "try plane?" Thanks to the encouragement of Don McConnell at Clark & Williams planemakers, I now call my 22"-long metal-bodied plane a try.

Long Plane: In several old texts, a plane that is about 26" long or so is called a "long plane." What was it used for? Trying large surfaces with greater accuracy than a "try" plane. While "long" plane certainly describes the tool, it doesn't really describe its function. Maybe a better name would be a "long trying plane."

Jointer Plane: These tools are 28" to 30" long, according to Holtzapffel. Think about that for a minute. Do you have a metal plane that long? Probably not. That ginormous size is outside the Bailey metal-plane system. These super-long tools were intended for creating edge joints. Hence their name. I don't own a plane this long.

Smoothing Plane: The old-school definition of a smoothing plane is a tool that is about 6-1/2" long to 8" long and is the last plane to dress the wood. So "smoothing plane" is an apt word. Smoothing planes have gotten a little longer in modern time -- up to about 10" long. Even so, their job is the same: smooth the wood for finishing.

Other Planes
These purpose-driven names don't end with the bench planes. Rabbet planes make rabbets. Moulding planes make mouldings. Hollows and rounds make round and hollow shapes. Fillister planes supposedly cut "fillisters," a word that supposedly means a cross-grain rabbet.

The names of other joinery planes don't quite make the cut. The name "router plane" isn't ideal, but I'm at a loss for what else to call it. ("Old woman's tooth" or "hag's tooth" are equally odd names in my book.) Yes, the router plane "roots" like a pig looking for truffles, but that doesn't really capture its function. Perhaps it does so many tasks that it's hard to describe.

The plow plane does indeed plow the wood. But why not call it a "groove plane" instead? Well, this is where things fall apart for me. I like the alliteration and assonance in the term "plow plane."

So what should we rename the oddly named "block plane?"

Holtzapffel suggests "modelling" planes. So are these planes suitable only for making wooden models? We can do better than that.

— Christopher Schwarz

Add this to your favorites: George Walker has launched a new blog on furniture design that will supplement his column that will appear in every issue of Popular Woodworking starting with the February 2010 edition. Both the column and the blog are called "Design Matters."

Walker is the host of the excellent DVD "Unlocking the Secrets of Traditional Design," a short and information-packed introduction to the world of using simple proportions to draw pleasing furniture.

We were so impressed with Walker after meeting him that we asked him to write a regular column for Popular Woodworking. He agreed. We also suggested that a blog might be a good way to amplify his points in his columns. And he agreed again.

Walker's first post, "Good Eye," suggests why people tend to like frame-and-panel doors with a bottom rail that is wider than the top rail. It's definitely worth reading.

— Christopher Schwarz

We were all bummed about news last week that "The New Yankee Workshop" was ceasing production. And, in case you've forgotten, this Saturday is Halloween.

I think you see where this is going.

By the power vested in me by the Radio Shack Battery Club, I declare Saturday to be "International Dress Like Norm Day." This is the time to break out your flannel shirts, your tool belt, your safety glasses, your fake beard.

In honor of Norm Abram, we're asking all his fans to dress like the man, take a photo of yourself in costume and send it to me by midnight Monday, Nov. 2, at chris.schwarz@fwmedia.com. The person who sends in the best photo (as determined by our staff), will win a great prize. What is the prize, you ask? Well, it's one of two things. We have to dig through our archives to see if we still have them. But rest assured that if you like "The New Yankee Workshop" then you are going to want this prize.

Visit this blog later this week for more details on this point.

I'm encouraging/ordering the entire staff of the magazine to observe this important date (we're celebrating IDLND on Friday). However, some of us who shall remain nameless, are going to have to go shopping for flannel and safety glasses.

— Christopher Schwarz

I crossed the border from Missouri to Arkansas this afternoon, and I knew immediately I was home.

For starters, the land is achingly beautiful. I miss the Ozarks I grew up with, which are surprisingly unspoiled by development. Every curve in the rugged terrain brings a new vista. You might be high over a lake one minute, deep into a fog bank the next then spiraling down switchbacks the next.

The roads are magnificently contorted, narrow and treacherous. In other words, it's a fun drive.

The other evidence I was home is that my electronic devices began to malfunction. I entered my hotel's address in Eureka Springs into the Garmin on the dashboard. It promptly took me to Snaketown, a reptile farm six miles north of Eureka Springs, Ark.

I'm down here to interview Larry Williams and Don McConnell of the Clark & Williams planemaking company. I've known Williams and McConnell for many years, but I've never gotten to write about this remarkable little company, its interesting history and how they go about building their wooden-stock planes.

I arrived at their shop about 2:30 p.m. Thursday and we spent the next two-and-a-half hours just catching up. Then we went to dinner at an excellent little Italian restaurant and talked late into the evening. I've just now looked at my notebook. I don't think there's much there I can print. It's too wild.

I'm going to try again in the morning, but already I fear there is little chance I'll be able to do this story justice. That's because every question and comment leads down an interesting and odd side road.

For example: Snaketown. I told Williams and McConnell about how my GPS landed me there. Larry laughed and told a hilarious tale about his daughter's herd of bitey and impossibly fertile gerbils. And how Larry ended up taking the whole lot of them to Snaketown to become a little snack for the performing reptiles.

— Christopher Schwarz

When woodworking magazines publish plans for a reproduction of an antique, we show you the details you need to construct a facsimile. We give you part sizes, joinery details and tips on how to perform the major operations in a modern shop.

But rarely do we give you the social, communal and historical context of a piece. We never try to investigate the original maker's intentions, or discuss his or her relationship to the neighbors, family or village.

So as a woodworker, it was both alarming and thrilling to read Robert Tarule's 2004 book, "The Artisan of Ipswich" (The Johns Hopkins University Press). This slim volume tries to capture the essence of everything important to 17th-century joiner Thomas Dennis as he built a chest for a client one November in his shop.

In this remarkable book, Tarule, a professional joiner, historian and former curator at Plimoth Plantation, takes a bird's eye view of one example of Dennis's work – a 47"-long lift-lid chest in oak with beautiful low-relief carvings. He begins the book with a bit of personal history to explain what led him down the curious path to reproducing 17th-century pieces for a living.

With his bona-fides established, Tarule begins to spin the tale of Ipswich, Mass., from its first mention in the historical texts to the time that Thomas Dennis settled there from England. Tarule's insights into Colonial Massachusetts are surprising (if you had a particularly sanitized view of Colonial history from school, as I seem to).

What you quickly realize is that one of the most important things in 17th-century America was access to wood – for fuel, tanning, fences, construction, cooperage, wheewrighting and joinery. In fact, wood turns out to be a sort of currency among the artisans. And the right to cut wood was the source of lawsuits, fines and revenge.

And so Tarule delves deeply into the topic of wood (oak, in particular). He contrasts how it grew and was managed in the coppices in England with its forms in the New World. And then he weaves the dendrology into the fabric of Ipswich society, explaining all the town's economic needs in terms of the wood.

As a joiner, Dennis needed particular kinds of wood for his work. So Tarule takes us into Dennis's head as he searches the forest for the trees he needs, and he and a helper split the wood and as he prepares it for the chest (now in the hands of the Ipswich Historical Society).

Tarule obviously spent many hours studying this chest to try to tease out Dennis's intentions. He uses every dimension, every knot and every stray tool mark to suss out how this chest was built and the mental processes Dennis employed to design the chest and organize the material to build it.

Because Tarule himself works this way (see his work at his Heart of the Wood web site), you can see that Tarule has faced the same decisions as he rived out the panels he needed for his own chests. And so the voice that Tarule gives to Dennis rings entirely true to me.

For the skilled woodworker, this book won't teach you anything about how to cut a tenon or a mortise, but it will show you how to change your methods to match the goals of a 17th-century joiner. The book won't give you precise part sizes that you can plug into your rip fence on your table saw, but it will show you how to use your material at hand to make adjustments as you go, and to sort out what is important and what is not.

But most of all, "The Artisan of Ipswich" will give you a deep appreciation for the work of 17th-century joiners and to see their pieces in a new light.

— Christopher Schwarz

After 21 seasons, "The New Yankee Workshop" is closing its doors, and its much-beloved host, Norm Abram, is going to focus on his personal projects and PBS's "This Old House," according to Russ Morash, executive producer and director of "The New Yankee Workshop."

"Norm has done this for 20 years, and he thought it time to step back and do a little less," Morash said in a phone interview. "And because the show was so tied to him, we didn't want to replace him."

There has been lots of speculation among fans of the show and the woodworking press that the show was looking for someone to take the reins when Abram left. But Morash said he didn't think that would be a good idea.

"Comparisons would be inevitable (between Abram and a new host)," Morash said.

The decision to stop production of new episodes of "The New Yankee Workshop" was a mutual decision between Morash Associates Inc. and WGBH Boston, Morash said. But that doesn't mean that "The New Yankee Workshop" is gone forever.

A spokesman from WGBH declined on Tuesday to comment on the matter.

The show's web site, newyankee.com, will continue to operate. And Morash foresees putting shows or segments from the show on the Internet in a "You Tube-like situation" so future generations could enjoy and learn from Abram.

Morash also noted that Abram may some day change his mind and want to crank up "The New Yankee Workshop" again.

"Who can predict the future?" Morash said. "He may want to do this again."

In the meantime, Abram will continue to work on "This Old House," and his own personal projects, both building furniture and improving his house.

When asked why Abram chose to stop working on "The New Yankee Workshop" instead of "This Old House," Morash laughed.

"'This Old House' is a much easier deal," he said. "Norm actually had to work on 'The New Yankee Workshop.' It was a lot of work. And I certainly respect his decision to step back."

With the loss of new woodworking programming from "The New Yankee Workshop," many bloggers and woodworking writers are wondering if the craft itself is on the decline or if TV woodworking shows are no longer viable.

"My own view is that broadcast is dead," Morash said. "That's my personal take on it. Newspapers are dead. And print is dying. The only hope is the Internet. And it's my hope that you'll see lots  of Norm on the Internet in the future."

And what about the craft itself? Is that swirling around the drain?

"No. There is a fundamental human need to build," Morash said. "People will always want to polish their craftsmanship."

The other question is what's going to happen to the shop itself, which is stocked with all manner of machines and hand tools. Morash said he's personally looking forward to some free time so he can build a few things in the shop. As for the long-term plans for the shop, Morash suggested that the shop could be put on display at the Smithsonian.

"It could be like Julia Child's kitchen," Morash said, "which I'm told is one of the most popular exhibits there. Who wouldn't want to visit Norm's shop?"

— Christopher Schwarz

When I bought my first smoothing plane at a flea market in Burlington, Ky., I could fit everything I knew about handplanes into one of the Elvis Presley shot glasses I stumbled upon that weekend.

One vendor had a lot of smoothing planes on his table, so I picked up each one, took it apart like I knew what I was doing and inspected its guts. After that mummer's farce, I ended up buying the plane that felt good in my hands. After all, some of the planes were a bit heavy, and others had totes that were square.

I set that plane up and used it for several years alongside my jack plane.

That plane was a Stanley No. 3 that was made before World War II, and it served me well for many years. When I started buying nicer tools, I did some research to figure out which smoothing plane I should buy. I settled on No. 4 because that was the most common-sized smoothing plane made by Stanley Works. That, I figured, should count for something.

But after switching to the No. 4, I was told by several woodworkers I respected that a No. 4-1/2 was really the superior plane because it was wider and heavier. I read that Anthony Guidice uses a low-angle jack for smoothing. I met David Charlesworth, who uses a No. 5-1/2 as a smoothing plane and prized its accuracy. And I learned later while watching a DVD that the late Alan Peters used a No. 7 for most workshop tasks.

Being a curious fellow, I tried working with all these planes set up as smoothing planes. Here's what I found: I like smaller smoothing planes.

The larger smoothing planes worked fine on small boards, the kind that you would use during a demonstration during a woodworking class – 6" wide and 18" long or so. But when it came to real furniture components, smaller smoothing planes were faster. Here's why.

Handplanes "see" the surface of the wood as a series of waves. Longer planes tend to straighten the wood, removing the tops of the waves and trying to bring them down to the troughs. The first pass with a long plane on a board will typically just remove a few high spots. Shorter planes tend to ride these waves up and down. The first pass with a short plane on our typical board will take a shaving from many more points on the board.

So here's how I work: I use the long planes to dress the surfaces that need to be quite flat (the interior of case pieces, areas where moulding needs to go etc.). If that surface won't show on the outside of the piece of furniture, I call it a day after using the jointer plane.

For parts that show that don't need to be flat, I use a short smoothing plane to get the surface looking good with as little work as possible. I like planing, but I also like seeing results.

Rethinking the No. 2
So this summer I bought No. 1- and No 2-sized planes for my 8-year-old daughter to use. She was struggling with my No. 4. After some practice, she preferred the No. 1 (perhaps because it's so cute). And so I was wondering what to do with the No. 2. I think the tote is too small for anybody to grip (except those woodworkers who have lost a fight with a table saw).

But then while building a chest of drawers I picked up the No. 2 and started holding it like a wooden coffin-bodied smoother. I wrapped my fingers and thumb around the frog and base of the tool instead of trying to jam them behind the adjuster. That different grip made a real difference.

The No. 2 is sized a lot like a wooden-bodied smoother. It's 7-5/8" long and about 2" wide. Typical wooden smoothers are 6-1/2" to 9" long, according to R.A. Salaman's "Dictionary of Woodworking Tools."

Because of its small size, the No. 2 turned out to be an excellent choice for a case side. Instead of trying to remove the high spots, the plane just made the side look good with only two or three passes. Is it flat? No. Can you tell by looking at it? No.

That experience made me break out my old No. 3. When I picked it out of my tool chest, the same thought flashed through my mind as when I first picked it up years ago at the flea market.

"Hmm. This one fits."

In a move that will please traditionalists and people who pare, Lie-Nielsen Toolworks has started offering some plane irons and chisels made using oil-hardened (O1) steel – in addition to the more modern A2 steel.

The O1 steel is available right now in the 2"- and 2-3/8"-wide bench plane irons, according to Thomas Lie-Nielsen. And soon the company will also begin selling irons for the Nos. 102, 60-1/2 and 62 planes in O1. After that, Lie-Nielsen said he will add O1 plane blades to the line according to customer demand.

Lie-Nielsen will also offer its bench chisels in O1 steel; the standard five-piece chisel set in O1 will begin shipping in about a month.

If you're not a steel geek, should you care? I think so.

A2 steel is a hard-wearing steel. I have found it holds an edge better than O1 steel in operations that tend to abuse the edge, such as in my fore plane, my jointer and the chisels that I use for chopping out dovetail waste.

However, I prefer O1 for paring chisels and for smoothing planes. I have found that O1 is superior to A2 at low sharpening angles (basically the tipping point is about 30°). So a paring chisel in O1 that is sharpened at 27° will last longer than a paring chisel in A2 at that same low angle. But move that angle up to 35° and the game changes in my opinion. That's when A2 shines.

I like O1 for smoothing plane blades because it is easier to sharpen – it develops a polish with fewer stokes than an A2 blade. Other woodworkers report that O1 also gives you a finer edge compared to A2, but I haven't really seen this.

Lie-Nielsen sent me some samples of the O1 smoothing plane blades and a chisel. They are nice, just as you would expect. One thing I noted is how thin the side bevels of recent bench chisels are compared to my earlier Lie-Nielsen chisels.

No matter which steel you prefer, you can't lose. The A2 and O1 blades and chisels will be the same price. I plan to purchase O1 blades for my smoothing plane and low-angle jack. Plus a few wider O1 chisels for paring jobs.

If you'd like to check out the O1 chisel sample and the O1 plane blade, feel free to stop by the free Lie-Nielsen Hand Tool Event in Indianapolis this weekend. I'll have both tools at my bench.

There are some words we get in trouble for using in a woodworking magazine. Here are a few: "foolproof" (fools, we have found, are very clever), "holiday" (don't ask) and "sexy."

Sure, it's OK to put a half-naked woman on the cover of a magazine with "that word" in 42-point type in the checkout line at the market where I get my cheese curds and snack crackers. But put "that word" in a woodworking magazine, and people become rather put out – like you threw a dozen cuddly puppies into the river.

So if you are sensitive to the word sexy, please stop reading. Because I am about to use the word in a sentence.

The Bad Axe saws from TechnoPrimitives are completely and almost impossibly sexy. Now ... exhale.

I recently reviewed these saws in the November 2009 issue of Popular Woodworking, but one full magazine page did not capture all my feelings about these saws (indeed, I have more than one feeling; I'm a modern man). These saws are just perfect in every way. Sure they cut well, but any wizard with a file can turn a putty knife into a surgical instrument.

What is really amazing about these saws is the level of detail with their construction. Photos don't do them justice. The cherry totes feel like they have already been broken in by 100 years of use. There are no hard lines biting into your palms. The medallion and sawnuts are seated perfectly in the tote. The saw's steel back and blade are mortised neatly and crisply.

Even the back itself is something to talk about. TechnoPrimitives uses a folded steel back (you can even get it in a deep black finish), just like the best American saws of the 19th century. Back then the British were partial to brass backs; Americans liked steel. The back also has a nice crisp stamp with the maker's name.

And the coolness extends to the blade. Mark Harrell at TechnoPrimitives went over the top when branding the blade. I don't know what to call it. It's not really an etch, it's more like a fine engraving. In any case, it's sharp and doesn't rub off on your work like on some low-end saws.

As far as the teeth go, I encourage you to check out Harrell's site for all the details on how he files the teeth. The saws cut extremely well right out of their environmentally friendly box.

Last weekend I used two Bad Axe saws for all the joinery on this White Water Shaker bench. And during the summer I used the heck out of them while building three projects for the book "The Joiner and Cabinet Maker."

Every time I picked them up I was reminded of one of the reasons I like modern tools: They are a totem, a reminder that we can still make things in this country that are damn good. While growing up in Fort Smith, Ark., I watched the town (and my next-door neighbor) struggle when the two major manufacturers there moved lines overseas. Some days I wonder if all we make in North America is debt, tool reviews and funny TV shows.

But when I pick up a tool from Veritas, Lie-Nielsen, Wenzloff & Sons, Bad Axe or one of the dozens of other makers we have today, I'm both heartened and inspired to make things with my hands.

Here endeth the sermon (sorry about that).

You can download a pdf of my review of Bad Axe saws from Popular Woodworking by clicking on the link below.

I've always been an advocate for low workbenches, especially for planing operations. My workbench is at 34" (and while standing on my horse stall mat it's 33"). And I've become quite fond of Megan's bench, which is at 30" (horse mat included).

But I can tell you that 16" is just too low. Yes, you really can get your weight right over the plane at 16", but then there's the problem of the occasional and inadvertent somersault.

— Christopher Schwarz

Toolmaker Ron Hock has a new book coming out soon and a new blog – both deal with sharpening. I had the privilege of reading the draft of the book, "The Perfect Edge" (Popular Woodworking Books), earlier this year. I think Ron has broken some new ground, especially on the topic of abrasives.

Until the book comes out, I recommend you check out his new blog, called "The Sharpening Blog." He's got two posts up now, with more to come. His latest post is the biggest list of sharpening links on the Internet that I have ever seen. Heck, there is stuff there that I haven't seen.

Ron wisely also looked to the sites run by knife makers in his list. If you think woodworkers are nutty about sharpening, get strapped in for a whole new nut.

After scanning the list of links, I concluded that if you read every one of those pages you would end up more confused than anything. And that's why I think Ron's book will be handy for you. It's not preachy (Ron is probably the nicest guy in woodworking). But it is well-written and quite engaging.

And if you want to learn more about the book, check out this interview with Ron on our site.

During the Woodworking in America Conference, there were two quotes that really stood out from all the bon mots that were hurled.

First up, Toshio Odate: "I speak broke English. I don't speak bull***t."

And Roy Underhill: "We had a saying at Colonial Williamsburg: Stop trying to improve the 18th century."

It was that second quote that was ringing in my head this morning as I nailed some glue blocks into my latest project. I'm finishing up work on the reproduction of the Shaker sitting bench from the White Water community and I was overcome by the urge to improve the 19th century.

This bench is nailed together. There's a seat plank, two long aprons below it and three legs. This bench, unlike many Shaker benches I've seen, lacks diagonal cross-braces. Despite this, the bench has held up well and is still quite sturdy.

But I'm worried about our 21st-century girth. This bench is likely to get used, and the last thing I want is for the thing to collapse in my lifetime.

So this morning I reinforced the legs with some glue blocks. I glued and nailed them between the aprons and the legs. These glue blocks will reinforce the legs and keep them from getting pulled from side to side. Yeah, I know there's a little bit of a cross-grain problem there. But it's minimal, and the nails will bend.

And if the Friends of White Water Shaker Village decide they don't like them, they can remove them easily. I installed the glue blocks with hide glue, so they can be removed. This benefit of hide glue is definitely something from that past that cannot be improved.

This week I'm building the sitting bench for the White Water Shaker community; the bench will be featured in the Winter 2009 issue of Woodworking Magazine. The version I'm building is a very close copy, so it will be 13' long. The version we'll show in the magazine will be 4' long (who really needs a 13'-bench, after all?).

Dealing with long stuff is a challenge, so I thought I'd post a couple movies during the next week that demonstrate some of the tricks to doing it well.

In this short clip, shot and narrated by Megan Fitzpatrick, I'm planing the long edge of what will become one of the bench's narrow aprons.

The trick, I think, is to keep the plane tucked against your body and lean forward. This allows you some forgiveness if you hesitate while you walk forward. If you do hesitate, you can push your arms forward as you recover your step to continue the smooth planing action uninterrupted.

Using this stance, I can plane any distance that I can walk.

If words don't do it for you, check out the clip above. And do note my profound lack of a backside in the film. I'm going to have to save up for some implants or something.

If you liked the video of me walking up a wall, you might enjoy this alternative treatment sent in by a reader who we like to call "Cheeseburger, No Meat."

If you are offended by references to my bum, or to masked avengers, then please do not click on the video.

— Christopher Schwarz

This is my first non-woodworking post on this blog. So if you're a sane and rational person who is here to read about woodworking, skip this post.

I started this blog almost five years ago as a way to build interest in the fledgling Woodworking Magazine. At the time the publication was coming out only a couple times a year and available only on newsstands. This blog was a way to remind people between issues that we still existed.

Since that day in 2005, the audience for this blog has grown a bit. Woodworking Magazine is now on sound footing and is growing. And this blog is an excellent outlet for my typing urges – I used to be a reporter for a daily newspaper, and that training dies hard.

But lately, the comment section of this blog has been besieged by a troll with a cartoon name and a slasher-flick attitude. He pretends to be of foreign descent, but I don't buy it, and I find it insulting to the foreign readers of this blog. He pretends to be earnest, but I don't buy that either. I think he just dislikes me and the fact that I support modern toolmakers with my paycheck and with my words.

I've asked him to e-mail me privately so we can discuss it. He hasn't. I've asked him to use his real name. He won't. How about an e-mail address? Nope. How about just toning down the insults? No.

So I've been deleting his comments. And I want you to know that I don't take this lightly. Since I've started this blog, I've only deleted the comments that were blatantly spam (Viagra!) or at the request of the commenter who had second thoughts.

Here's the way I see it: Lucy and I like to have dinner parties. And our friends are all lively and outspoken. Most evenings end with a heated debate about something, and I am usually at the losing end of things. That's fine. But I would probably feel different if one of the guests left a dump on my carpet. That probably would get them uninvited next time.

So here are the rules (I hate rules): Feel free to disagree with me and other commenters. Speak your mind. Pick apart my arguments. Analyze and think critically about what everyone writes about woodworking. And broadcast your thoughts with some tact with the intent to help others understand the way you see the world.

But don't insult others. It wastes my time and those who rush to defend the insulted. And that's a stupid waste of energy. I like woodworking. I like talking about woodworking. Thinking about it. But I don't like arguing about stupid stuff that feels like I haven't left the playground at Woods Elementary School in Arkansas.

And that's why I'm not allowing comments on this post (comments are still open on all my other posts). I don't want anyone wasting their time on silly stuff posted by a cartoon chef.

– Christopher Schwarz

P.S. The illustrations here were by my daughters, Maddy and Katy (not Disney). Nice work, no?

Even though I am 100-percent confident in my ability to join two boards together using the tail-of-the-bird joint, I am always riveted when I get to see how other accomplished woodworkers go about the task.

In fact, when I watch others work, I never fail to pick up some important details.

On Saturday at our Woodworking in America conference I got to watch Roy Underhill from "The Woodwright's Shop" television show cut some dovetails and discuss his approach, which is planted in history and practical experience. So here it goes.

Underhill began by asking the audience to tell him the rules of cutting dovetails, and he got a big long list of everything from the degree of the slope to the layout to the order of operations. Then he showed us a pre-Civil War tool chest – a beautiful dovetailed tool chest – that violated almost all of those rules. And that's where he began discussing his approach to through-dovetails.

Layout
Underhill likes to cut the tails first when he can, and he strikes his baselines with a cutting gauge set to the thickness of the work plus 1/32nd.

Then he lays out the tails by first marking the half pins at the edges of the tail board. How wide should the base of each half pin be? One-half your stock thickness. Underhill was joining 3/4"-thick material, so the half pins were 3/8". He laid those out with a 3/8"-wide chisel. This measurement – 3/8" in this case – is also the space between the each tail at the baseline.

How wide are the tails themselves? Underhill uses twice the thickness of the material – or 1-1/2" wide in this case. Then he lays out the tails using a ruler that he lays diagonally on the board. He marks out the centerlines where the holes for the pins should go, then strikes out the 3/8" dimension by eyeballing the 3/8" chisel on the centerline. Then pounding it with his hand.

Slope Angle
Underhill isn't much of a believer in using certain slope angles. He goes by eye and scribes them with a sharp pencil and a bevel gauge.

"Oh, that looks good," he said. Then he shows the layout to the audience and said that if it looked right it was right.

"Throw away your dovetail marker," he said. "Just do it. Throw it away." Then he cuts the tails but does not remove the waste between them.

Transfer the Marks. No Knife
To transfer the shape of the tails onto the pin board, Underhill uses his dovetail saw. He places his tail board on top of his pin board (which is clamped in a vise). And then places the dovetail saw in the kerf and scores the end grain of the pin board. It's a light mark. Too deep and your saw will jump into the kerf when you are sawing out the pins. You actually want to saw in the waste next to this line.

Then he draws the shape of his pins on the pin board and cuts them with a dovetail saw. To remove the waste between the pins, Underhill uses a coping saw, which he lubricates with mutton tallow.

Chiseling Out
When he chisels out the remaining waste he intentionally leaves a hump in the floors between the pins. Then the clamps the board upright in a face vise to pare out the remaining hump.

To remove the waste left between the tails, Underhill uses two chisels. He used a 3/8" chisel at the baseline and a 1/4" above the baseline. He beavered out a "V" using the two chisels (I've never seen this technique before).

Then he asked the audience to please not ask him about gluing dovetails.

"I'm a TV woodworker," he said. "So I can't glue anything together on camera because we might have to knock it apart and do it again."

The message from Underhill (or St. Roy to you and me) is this: Dovetails were made in a wide variety of ways by skilled craftsmen. If you are building an original design, make dovetails that look good to your eye. If you are going to copy a piece, use their layout.

"We had a saying at Colonial Williamsburg," Underhill said. "It was: 'Stop trying to improve the 18th century.'"

And if the above rational discussion doesn't settle the arguments about dovetails, I recommend you do what Underhill did later that evening: Arm wrestle the managing editor who prefers pins-first instead of tails-first.

— Christopher Schwarz

You know, at our Woodworking in America event last week I didn't get to talk to a lot of the toolmakers. In fact, I didn't even get to see some of them. That is what a madhouse it was. So that's why I'm particularly pleased to announce a couple additional toolmakers who are coming to the Lie-Nielsen Hand Tool Event Oct. 16-17 in Indianapolis.

Jameel Abraham from Benchcrafted (and hopefully his brother Fr. John as well) will be there demonstrating their awesome bench hardware, including their cool tail vise and their Glide face vise. They also sell my favorite scraper called (cleverly) the Skraper. It's a carbide-tipped tool that is great for removing glue, paint and even wood.

If you haven't met Jameel, you owe it to yourself to get to know the guy. He's an amazing craftsman (ask to see one of his ouds). And funny (ask him about Harbor Freight).

I'm also going to take the opportunity during the event to twist his arm about writing some stories for us. (Sheesh, I hope Fine Woodworking doesn't read this blog. I blab too much.)

Also, Andrew Lunn from Eccentric Toolworks is coming to the Indianapolis show to demonstrate his saws. I've spilled so many pixels on Andrew already it's hard to add to my long list of superlatives about his saws. Simply put: Try Andrew's saws. They will make a believer out of you. They are beautiful to look at (photos don't do them justice) and they are tuned to an almost ridiculous level.

And, as I mentioned before, Kevin Drake from Glen-Drake Toolworks will be there, plus design guru George Walker and staff from the Marc Adams School of Woodworking.

One more thing to tempt you that I neglected to mention in my first post about this event: Martin J. Donnelly is holding an auction and tool sale nearby at the Ramada Inn East in Indianapolis those same days (Oct. 16-17) It's a 10-minute car ride from the Lie-Nielsen show and well worth seeing. Click here for details on that.

If you need directions or more information on the event, click here.

— Christopher Schwarz

If you haven't seen it, Managing Editor Megan Fitzpatrick is on the cover of the November 2009 issue of Popular Woodworking with her new laminated veneer lumber (LVL) bench. When I proposed this cover, some of the people in our circulation department were sure I had been drinking lacquer thinner.

You don't put women on the cover of a woodworking magazine, they said. You need a bearded, 55-year-old guy with a $7 haircut and Milwaukee's Best beer gut.

Despite the objections, I argued that it was Megan's bench, the bench was the cover story and so it was Megan who was going on the cover.

We sent that issue to the printer and a couple weeks later, we received the October 2009 issue of Woodworker's Journal.

With a woman on the cover. And a plywood project.

Megan's response: "Aw crap, they beat us to the punch."

"Nope," I countered. "It doesn't count. She's not depicted as the woodworker. She is the 'fantasy spouse' who is merely enjoying the project."

Then today my copy of British Woodworking showed up. Here it is:

This PG-13 sculpture is made from Baltic birch plywood by Peter Rolfe. OK you randy Brits. When it comes to putting a woman and plywood on the cover, you win this round.

In my book, there is one rule for buying vintage tools: Buy them from someone who will take them them back if the tool stinks.

That rule keeps me on my toes on eBay, at auctions, flea markets and at garage sales. If I can't completely inspect, disassemble and use a tool before I buy it, I really want a money-back guarantee.

How can you tell in the store if a chisel is too soft to hold a good edge? How can you tell if all the moving parts of a plane and its sole will work together to do good work?

There are lots of really good sellers on the Internet who will take your money back, so don't be afraid to ask about it. Here are my three favorites in the United States:

Brass City Records and Tools: Walt Quadrato runs a Connecticut storefront that sells records and tools. He manages to find tremendous tools as he haunts the markets of New England in the wee hours of the morning. And because he's a woodworker, he knows what makes a tool a user and what makes a tool a plane-shaped doorstop.

Walt also is a prince of a guy and isn't out to make a fast buck. I bought a Stanley Everlasting chisel from him years ago and have become a regular customer. If I ever need a tool, I just call Walt and ask if he's got it. He usually does.

And if you have a scraper plane problem, then you already know Walt. He's in the support group you attend every week.

SYDNAS SLOOT (aka Sanford Moss): Don't let the unusual name fool you (it's actually "Sandys Tools" spelled backward). Sanford sells tools part time, but he always digs up good users at fair prices, and he turns up some occasional collectible gems.

His site is also the single-best source of information on braces on the Internet. Sanford always ships things fast and is just great to deal with.

Olde River Hard Goods: If you like the really old stuff, you need to get to know Tony Seo. He digs up cool stuff (his passion seems to be the 18th-century stuff). And unless it's a real collectible, Tony will restore the tools he finds back to usable condition (removing surface rust, tightening hammer handles and the like). Most of the stuff he sells is on eBay as a "Buy It Now" option.

Let's just say that Tony was very happy to help me out with my hammer problem. And when I needed a real old-school holdfast to examine and use, Tony was the man.

As I said, there are lots of other great sellers on the Internet. This is by no means a comprehensive list – but these are the three guys who get most of my vintage tool dollars.

One of the (10 million) highlights of the Woodworking in America conference last weekend was getting to watch woodworkers participate in the Hand Tool Olympics sponsored by the Society of American Period Furniture Makers and run by Mike Siemsen.

By the way, I got my bottom whipped by Dean Jansa in the ripping contest. Of course, I was using Adam Cherubini's homemade rip saw, the only food I'd eaten that day was a cup of coffee and I'm a terrible ripper.

However, watching me lose wasn't the highlight. If you'd like to know how fast you can rip a board with a handsaw, watch the short video above. Mike Siemsen, who runs Mike Siemsen's School of Woodworking, challenged Ron Herman to a sawing contest.

Both are long-time professional handtool users. Siemsen has been a cabinet maker and teacher his entire life. Ron is a seventh-generation housewright who uses hand tools almost exclusively. These two trials were run with Mike's saws. Later, they jousted again with a variety of different saws. Check it out.

Whenever I try to explain the new Veritas Surface Vise with words, I get only blank stares. Perhaps I don't have the language skills to manage it. Perhaps a short movie will help.

The Surface Vise is – in essence – a quick-release version of the Veritas Wonder Dog. One post guides the rod of the vise and locks the vise to your workbench. The other post contains a speed nut – a clever way to release and engage the threaded part of the rod. Twist the speed nut clockwise, it engages the threads. Twist it anticlockwise and the rod slides freely.

It's a clever way to add a quick-release tail vise to any bench or work surface.

The only quibble I have with the Surface Vise is the same quibble I have with the Wonder Dog: It's a challenge to clamp thin material. The mechanism is ideal for stock that is 3/4" thick or thicker. Once you start clamping thinner stock, you're going to have to come up with a dodge to make it work. One such workaround is to add a secondary jaw to the head of the Surface Vise. This jaw could taper to whatever thickness you wanted. (The head of the vise is bored with clearance holes to make this easy).

However, all in all, it's an amazing piece of work. It is simple to install, works remarkably fast and (unlike some tail vises) never sags. The unit is $75 from Lee Valley Tools.

I've had my head plunged deep into the cracker barrel of the 19th century this year while working on the forthcoming book "The Joiner and Cabinet Maker."

One of the things I really like about writing books is the research. I have, for example, learned more about the history of pencils this year than during any other period in my life. In fact, I'm considering making some for my own amusement if I can get some graphite from Cumbria.

Of course, all this research has also made me one of the most boring people to be around in our neighborhood.

During my research I've also become fascinated with the benevolent societies of the 18th and 19th centuries. These were, in essence, clubs that had several aspects to them. They would provide insurance in case you died or your tools were stolen. They provided a social network – there are many accounts of parades and celebrations (think Shriners with sharp tools). And these groups sought to further their education. Many of these societies hosted traveling lecturers to speak on the craft.

So this morning I'm cleaning off my 350-pound French workbench to load it into the truck for Valley Forge, Pa., and the Woodworking in America conference. I swore I'd never move this bench again. (Actually, that was my back that was doing the swearing.) But despite all the grunting ahead of me, and some anxiety about my lecture on bench planes, I'm looking forward to Woodworking in America in a way that transcends the fact that it is part of my job.

You see, I've never been one to join clubs. I wasn't in a fraternity. I never attended the French Club meetings (except when they had those Toblerone candy bars). Heck, I don't even belong to the Society of Professional Journalists.

But this weekend, I know I'm going to get to see all the people who make my job so rich, including both toolmakers and readers I have known for more than a decade. I'm going to get to meet people I've always wanted to know – Toshio Odate and Peter Follansbee to name only two. And I'm really looking forward to the Hand Tool Olympics. Wait until Mike Siemsen gets his claws into you -- you're going to love it, too.

This event, for me, almost captures the spirit of these benevolent societies. If you went to Berea last year, you know what I mean. If you're going to Valley Forge, you are about to find out.

All we really need now are some funny hats and a secret handshake.

Woodworker Lévis Thériault of Fredericton, NB, sent these interesting photos of a leg vise he purchased in an antique shop.

The real head-scratcher here is the round post at the bottom of the chop. I haven't seen a parallel guide like this that wasn't threaded. Lévis questioned whether the woodworker perhaps used a block of wood at the bottom of the chop (aka a "pile block").

Could be. Here are two other crackpot theories (remember this is the Internet we're dealing with):

Theory 1: The chop is so thin and the guide is so short that it’s possible this vise was used to grasp only thin materials. That doesn't explain, however, the length of the screw.

Theory 2: Perhaps they used the round post like a holdfast? The post could have been in a hole that was fairly close in size to the post. Then they would jam the post in the hole (with their foot?) when securing the screw to wedge the bottom of the chop. It might be a bit of a pain to un-jam the post perhaps....

If anyone has any additional cockamamie theories, our lines are now open.

As you might remember, we have a bit of a competition going among some of the women attending the Woodworking in America conference this week. Megan Fitzpatrick, Heather Griffin (one of the conference organizers) and Kari Hultman from the blog The Village Carpenter are all vying to be the best borer.

As a result, they'll be competing in the Hand Tool Olympics, sinking a 3/4" bit through yellow pine to see who is the fastest (points off for a hole that isn't plumb).

Today we gave Heather a few pointers on boring, then Megan showed us how she was doing. Then Megan tried to kick Heather in the head. Really. It's in the movie.

By the way, apologies to everyone in advance here. I called both of them "girls" during this short video. Yes it took only 1:09 for my Southerness to shine through. In Arkansas we call 70-year-old grandmothers "girls." And until my voice changed, they called me "girl," too.

In any case, the boring climax of this competition will occur at the Saturday-night banquet at Woodworking in America. It's a full card: Roy Underhill and a catfight.

— Christopher Schwarz

In journalism school they teach you this about skepticism: "If your mother says she loves you, then you better find a way to confirm it."

And so I was a little suspicious when Glen Huey told me about the dust collection system rigged up on the SawStop Professional Cabinet Saw (PCS) that we're testing for the December 2009 issue. Glen's never one for hyperbole. (He's from Ohio. They're real low-key as a people.) But it was hard to believe it when Glen said there was no dust left on the table after a rip cut.

So we grabbed my camera and took these short videos. One is with the new guard system connected to a prototype piping system and our 1 hp dust collector. The other video shows how well the guard collects and shoots out the dust even without any dust collection attached.

I've never seen anything like this on a table saw that wasn't in an industrial setting.

This guard is available now on the SawStop PCS.

— Christopher Schwarz

We’ve received a number of questions about Laminated Veneer Lumber (LVL) and the new “Gluebo” workbench that’s featured in the November 2009 issue of Popular Woodworking. I’m afraid you’ll have to wait for the article for some of those answers (the issue is mailing to subscribers now, and will be on newsstands the week of Oct. 8), but there are a few items online that may be of interest: go to popularwoodworking.com/nov09, where you’ll find SketchUp drawings of the bench, a video tutorial for drilling dog holes (using Glen Huey’s cheap and simple jig) and an article from Christopher Schwarz on flattening a benchtop.

Getting it Flat
A lot of people have asked about flattening the LVL top, and it really wasn’t much work. Of course, as you’ll find out in the article, LVL is incredibly stable, and we ran each benchtop lamination except the final, completed top through the planer, so the top was darn close to flat already. So, it was less than 15 minutes of work with handplanes to dress it (and, the plane blades survived the experiment). What we’re eager to find out is how long it will stay flat. We suspect this material won’t need much maintenance in the long run; stay tuned to find out if we’re right.

Buying it
The top for Chris’s old-school Roubo bench, out of Southern yellow pine, was about $40; for the LVL benchtop, we spent about $75 (note: price discussion in comments below). But unlike SYP, LVL is widely available across the country at lumberyards that supply the construction industry (we bought ours at McCabe Lumber, simply because it was the closest supplier to our shop). And, because the LVL is almost rock-solid stable, it was a lot less work to mill than SYP, and we used less of it for the bench’s base. So in the end, the monetary costs were comparable, and we saved time (the entire base was built in one afternoon).

And finally, we’ve been asked why, if the material is so stable, did we not just buy a thicker slab instead of ripping the 1-3/4"-thick piece into 2-3/4"-wide strips and laminating them together. Frankly, the face of the LVL isn’t pretty. But when cut and turned on edge, it looks pretty cool – kind of like zebra wood.

— Megan Fitzpatrick

One of the weaknesses of the so-called transitional handplanes is the way the tote attaches to the metal frame of the tool. The tote comes loose when you touch it, look at it or even think about it.

I've seen many of these tools with replacement totes – everything from a custom-made fancy doo-dad to a broomstick.

I own an early Stanley No. 32 jointer plane that is in good shape. The tote, however, is pathetic. Every time I pick up the plane I also need to pick up a screwdriver to tighten the bolt that kinda secures the tote.

This week I had a conversation about this tool with woodworker and collector Carl Bilderback (he's reading "Handplane Essentials" right now and has been pointing out the typos and things he disagrees with). He has some rare and expensive transitional planes in his collection and so he wanted to tweak me a bit for saying these tools were "dirt cheap."

Mine was $35. Several of the transitionals that have come through our shop were thoughtful gifts (read: foisted upon us). In general, I've found user-grade transitionals to be less expensive than their equivalent user-grade iron-bodied brothers.

In any case, Carl had a solution to suggest for my "wobbly tote problem" (which is still not listed in the DSM-IV). Here it is: Drive a screw through the base of the tote, through the metal frame and into the wooden stock.

"Stanley put a screw there on their metal planes," Bilderback said. "So it should work."

Well, duh. So this morning I did just that with a 1-1/2"-long pan-head screw. You probably don't need instructions on screwing, but the steps are outlined in the photos below. So far it seems to be a good fix. I flattened a few boards with the tool and the tote stayed put.

Begin the hole by boring a pilot hole with a brad awl. Chase the hole, turning it into a clearance hole, with a 1/4" bit.

Use a punch to make a divot in the metal frame of the tool. Bore a clearance hole with a 1/4" bit. Go slow and stop as soon as you make it through the frame. Drill a standard pilot hole into the wooden stock.

Drive your screw.

This year I've made friends with my chisel plane. In fact, I don't think I could have installed the Benchcrafted wagon vise as a retrofit without it.

Today I got another lesson in chisel-plane use from Carl Bilderback that I'd like to share with you. Carl is a woodworker, semi-retired carpenter, tool collector and active member of the Mid-West Tool Collectors Assn. As a finish carpenter, Carl had several specialties, including repairing finished or veneered surfaces on the jobsite and hiding those repairs from customers.

His skill at cutting a "dutchman" prompted me to publish one of his articles on his process in Popular Woodworking's February 2008 issue (if you have that issue, you should definitely check it out. Good stuff.)

In any case, Carl said that one of the reasons he was always sought out for repairs was because he owned a chisel plane.

Because of that tool, Carl said he could trim face-grain plugs and dutchmen without touching the surrounding finish. And he also could trim end-grain plugs with ease. Other carpenters would sand their repairs flush with the surrounding surface, which made more work for the guys who had to repair the finish.

Now I have had no trouble trimming face grain with a chisel plane, but trimming end grain with a chisel plane has always been difficult for me. Carl explained how he did it. I tried it in the shop this afternoon, and it was like the light bulb went on. I think everyone needs an old hand like Carl around. Perhaps Lie-Nielsen could start making Carls for everyone....

Here's what you do: Set the chisel plane so its cutting edge is flush to the sole and will not cut the surface of your work. (I know, this is obvious, but I have to say it.)

Now approach the plug with the corner of the cutter. You want to try to nibble off no more than 1/16" from the plug. Less material; less resistance.

Keep firm downward pressure on the the tool and pivot the corner into the plug, like you are picking away a small portion of the plug. Once you remove that first 1/16", head to the next 1/16".

I tried this procedure on some tough white oak and maple end-grain plugs and, as we say in Arkansas, it worked like a peach.

Back in June, some of you might remember that I was building an Ohio copy of a fascinating three-legged Chinese stool. And some of you might also remember how I flamed out at the very end of the project, cutting a single tenon at the wrong angle, ruining the entire thing with no time to recover before the scheduled photo shoot.

Well I got pulled into another project, and Senior Editor Robert W. Lang started building two of the stools last month for the Winter 2009 issue of Woodworking Magazine. Bob is just as interested in the stool and its joinery as I am, so he seemed happy to take up the challenge.

Until today.

As I was cutting through the shop to get to the copier Bob was at his bench working on the stool and I stopped by to check his progress. During the last month I've watched as he ran into the same challenges that I did. And he's recovered nicely each time.

But today he got one of the stretchers flipped over as he was marking it and he cut its shoulder at the opposite angle he was looking for.

But Bob is smart. He has that second stool already in the works, and I'm sure he'll pull it together in time. Meanwhile, I've got that Shaker bench to build – and I better get cracking at my presentation at Woodworking in America.

Couple quick notes on that event next weekend in Valley Forge:

1. We will have copies of my new book "Handplane Essentials" there to sell as well as our reprint of Joesph Moxon's "The Art of Joinery" with my commentary.

2. We will not have copies of the new book we're publishing with Joel Moskowitz titled "The Joiner and Cabinet Maker." However, I hope to have a printout of the book to share there and will be discussing the 1839 bench plane techniques there in public for the first time.

3. It will be a bench-lover's paradise: The Roubo, the Holtzapffel, the Gluebo and Bob's 21st -century Workbench will all be there and in use.

I hope you can stop by Oct. 2-4.

— Christopher Schwarz

Question: I often see dovetail layout lines left showing on the exterior of pieces. As I'm in final cleanup up of a blanket chest (yes, the Union Village chest from your article) the layout lines are still visible after I've got the piece smooth.  However, the lines do not uniformly show on all edges.

What to do? Get rid of them all, re-establish lines consistently around the piece, or just leave it as is with faint lines of inconsistent depth around the piece? It doesn't look all that bad as it is.

— Rick Bowles

Non-answer: The question of leaving tool marks behind seems thorny at first. There are those who say that removing marks, such as your layout lines, is what a pre-industrial joiner or cabinet maker would consider "neat and workmanlike." And there are those who say that leaving tool marks is what separates you from the giant CNC mills that poop out almost-adequately sanded highboys every two minutes.

Here's how I approach it. My opinion is only that, but you asked for it.

Unless you roll a stump into your living room and call it a coffee table, every aspect of furniture is a tool mark. Sandpaper, for example, is a tool and leaves a distinctive surface. A router-cut moulding is almost always different than one cut with moulding planes.

So the question of tool marks is which ones you choose to leave behind. When I build a piece that is a reproduction or is in the spirit of a past style, then I try to get a feel for the marks that were typical.

So what is appropriate for a Union Village blanket chest? Let's take a look. The following shots were taken only to document this piece's construction details, so you'll have to forgive the photo quality. They were never intended to be published.

Let's start at the back of the case, near the lid. In this shot you can see that the baseline has been erased by the maker's plane (all the surfaces of this piece are planed). And this is a secondary surface that will likely be against the wall or a bed. Hmmm.

Now let's look at the base of the chest, still at the rear and still on the same corner. Here you can see toolmarks everywhere. The baseline is there, as are marks from laying out the dovetails on the plinth (aka, the base).

OK, now let's look at the front of the chest. This chest features half-blind dovetails, and the tails are on the ends. Though the photo is a tad grainy, there are faint baselines up and down the end pieces.

My conclusion here is that this maker wasn't really concerned with the baselines. When they were removed (such as at the back), that was OK. When they were left behind, that was OK, too. Bottom line: The baselines on this walnut piece are not distracting.

So Rick, I think you are done. If the piece looks good to your eye and the toolmarks are neither sloppy nor distracting, then I think you can call it a day and start finishing the piece.