I set forth to make an item for my house, a length of trim for the front of my fireplace which conceals a speaker cable. The piece stared with an 8 ft length of 1×2 red oak. A rabbet was to be cut on the bottom, back edge to match the size of the speaker cable. I needed an 80″ run to cover the fireplace front and a short length on either side mitered to conceal the cable as it wrapped around the hearth. One immediate dilemma was that I only have a 5 ft bench, it is hard to plane items longer than ones bench. So using a length of 1×4 pine, a piece of remnant moulding from my door project (3/8″ thick stop), and a screw, I fashioned a long sticking board that was secured to the bench using holdfasts.
I placed the piece in the sticking board and got out my wooden moving fillister plane, a pre-civil war English made example I got at the tool store about the Woodwright’s School. I next adjusted the fence and depth stop to match the rabbet size I needed. Then I set the depth of cut using my plane hammer. I began on the far end of the board and worked carefully to define the shoulder down the piece’s entire length. With shoulder defined, I worked the entire rabbet while walking down the length of the board. I was amazed how easy it was cut such a long joint with this set up. I did take some time given the rabbet depth and my son and father-in-law sat on the bench to keep it more stable as I worked. After some time, a beautiful pile of red oak curls lay about and the rabbet was done. I next rounded over the face edge with my block plane so the piece had the appearance of a quarter round. I cut the miters for the end pieces and secured them with screws through the miter. Given that one would have to crawl on the floor to see the screws, the work did not require a more elegant fastening approach. Dropped the piece into place and the trim now covers the cable in question.
Late last year Lost Art Press put out a limited run letterpress poster, “By Hammer and Hand”. My family purchased it as a gift for my birthday. I really appreciate the poster and I am especially fond of the oak leaf carvings (natural I guess given that I earn a living studying oaks). I sought a frame for the poster from a craft store. The frame did not fit and it did not do this poster by Steam Whistle Letterpress justice either. So I decided I would make my first frame for this piece of art. It took some time to get to this project as I was working on the window and doors for my workshop renovation. Though in the interim I had the pleasure of showing the poster to my grandfather to get his opinion. He was trained as a printing craftsman and was in the Italian theatre of WWII in an engineering unit where he used this knowledge to print maps. He knew letterpress and talked with me about the process that was likely followed and indicated he thought it was done on a small “proofing” press. Sharing a beer while talking about this letterpress piece was a nice memory from his last year.
The frame I made using ponderosa pine. I found a 1×4 board at the home center with a clear face and and nice grain pattern. I ripped the board in half and cut to a rough length the four pieces needed for the frame. Then it was on to truing the faces and shooting the edges once I oriented the pieces to make the grain pattern look the best. I then dimensioned the pieces to the same width (1 1/2″) and thickness. The next step was to layout the rabbet on the back of each piece to accept the glass, poster, and backing. The rabbet was 1/4″ wide by 3/8″ deep. I used my Stanley 45 to cut the rabbet. I quickly discovered that the pieces were too thin and the fence of the plane stuck down too low to complete the rabbet. As a solution, I made an impromptu sticking board. The joints turned out well once I got this work holding device all set-up. It was made from a scrap 2×6, a length of moulding, and a screw.
I next laid out the mitres and got the length of each piece correct so that the poster would fit exactly into the rabbets. When cutting the pieces to length I had to be sure to account for the width of the rabbet. I debated about whether to saw the mitres freehand or use my poorly constructed Stanley hand mitre box. I went ahead and used the mitre box. The cuts turned out well on all the corners but one. Due to some movement of the mitre box and the piece on the fence, the saw got a bit off as I proceeded through the cut on this one mitre. I got it pretty close fettling the joint with my block plane. Next time I will be sure to fully secure the mitre box to the bench and use two clamps to hold the piece being sawn. Making a mitre shooting board would also be prudent if I were making a number of frames.
Paul Hasluck’s book Mounting and Framing Pictures (1906) provides good detail on the next steps I followed to assemble a frame using traditional methods. This book (and a number of others) also gives details on the mitre shooting board. For assembly I drilled pilot holes on the bottom and top boards (nailing from top and bottom minimizes view of the nails on a hung frame). Using hide glue and headless cut brads, I worked around the frame assembling each corner. I sized the mitre joints to get better glue adhesion on the end grain, rubbed the glue joint a bit, and then drove two nails in each corner. Following advice in the Hasluck book and a section of the The Woodworker: The Charles H. Hayward Years, I held the top piece slightly overhanging the mitre corner as I began to drive the first nail in each corner. The force of the nailing brings the two mitre corners together for a more seamless joint. That is the theory anyway. It seemed that the same force on different corners yielded different movement of the top piece. Moral of the story here is there is a bit of finesse or the “right touch” to get the corners to align perfectly when nailing them.
Nailing mitre corner
Completed frame following glue-up and nailing
Frame rail and stile
With the frame assembled, I waited for the hide glue to dry and then planed the joints with my smoothing plane. I next applied two coats of Danish oil and “sanding” after each with a brown paper bag. I completed the mounting with glass cut at my favourite local lumber yard (its like a time capsule of an earlier era), cardboard scrounged from the recycling bin, and glazing points. A proper, traditionally constructed frame for this carved and hand-printed letterpress poster was complete.
Afterword –It seemed fitting to draft this entry on my vintage mechanical typewriter during a week I was reading Charles Hummel’s book, “With Hammer in Hand”, that I can only assume inspired the creation of the poster.
This simple dining tray design caught my eye as it would allow me to gain some practice introducing curves into my pieces and to put to work my refurbished Stanley 51 spokeshave and recently purchased Gramercy rasp. The design is from an article published in Woodworking Magazine (Spring 2006) that appears to have been adapted from Ejner Handberg’s “Shop Drawings for Shaker Furniture & Woodenware Vol. 1” (Berkshire House). The piece was to be a gift to my mother who introduced me to Shaker designs early in my childhood. One of my first memories of a family vacation was as a four-year-old traveling from Illinois to the Pleasant Hill Shaker Village in Kentucky (interestingly not too far from where I now live).
The piece was constructed using 1/2” yellow-poplar and headless cut brads. I glued up the boards for the handle and bottom, planed them to size once dry, and set to work building the tray’s frame. I laid out the curve in the handle using a French curve, roughed it in with a coping saw, and then finished it with my spokeshave, modeller’s rasp, and some sandpaper. I was satisfied with the end product but it sure showed me I needed some more practice tuning, setting-up and using my spokeshave. After laying out the handle hole, I cut in the curve parts using ¾ auger bit. I did as much of the rest of the shaping with chisel and then switched finally to a rasp then sandpaper. The frame is nailed butt joints and bottom and handle are nailed from underneath. I recently refurbished a Stanley 60 1/2 block plane and was glad to have it when trimming the butt joints smooth. With such a narrow piece even my smoothing plane (Stanley No. 4) can be a bit awkward.
Once together I again planed the surfaces with my smoothing plane in preparation for painting with barn red milk paint. Following the instructions in the Anarchist’s Design Book (Lost Art Press), I wiped the piece with a damp cloth, let it dry, and sanded using 220 grit paper. Next I mixed the powered milk paint in a 1:2 ratio with warm water. Two coats of paint were applied sanding between coats with a 320 grit sanding sponge. I followed the paint with
two coats of Danish oil to bring out a bit of richness from the paint. Without a top coat, this milk paint was a bit chalky and dull. After each coat of oil was cured, I rubbed (“sanded”) with a brown paper bag. I was at first discouraged by the milk paint color but when complete this process turned out well.
This spring in preparation for my workshop rebuild I needed to build a window sash. I started by reviewing an array of sources to understand traditional window sash design and construction (a list of my references are included below). It became clear that the basic design of sash joinery is pretty similar among sources, but there is important variation in building techniques.
The fundamental joint in a window sash is the mortise and tenon. Nearly all of the sources suggest that the joints should be prepared before the moulding and glazing rabbet are completed. The method of “sticking” the moulding profile (typically an ovolo) and rabbet can be accomplished in a variety of ways. The British approach would be to stick the ovolo with a moulding plane and the rabbet with a sash fillister. The resulting material between what is cut by these planes would be the fillet. The American approach would be to employ a “stick and rabbet” plane which has two irons and cuts the ovolo and rabbet simultaneously. A similar and more “modern” (not necessary better) method would be to use a Stanley 45 with a sash iron. Because of the Stanley 45’s square iron and minimal supporting surfaces, it can be harder to use with difficult grain. For my window build, I utilized my Stanley 45 and the sash iron fresh from rehab and honing. Really not a matter of preference as I do not own dedicated sash planes, so the 45 was my only option. Hope to change that in the future.
Window sashes are traditionally built from stable, straight grain material and softwoods were typical in the US. Without a source for 6/4 eastern white pine, I built my window sash from a home center 2×6 (it was ponderosa pine). It took much selection to find a board where I could rip material so that the stock had the growth rings perpendicular to the face much like quarter sawn lumber. My next step was to create a “story stick” based upon the open size for the window. A “story stick” is a traditional, shop-made template in sash making that outlines the overall dimensions of the window as well as location and size of the joints and moulding. I followed the process described in Doormaking and Window-Making to mark-out the joints and moulding dimensions onto the “story sticks” (one for rails and one for stiles).
I dimensioned the rails and stiles for the sash based upon the opening height and width from the “story stick”. For this small casement window, the stiles and upper rail were 1 3/4″ wide, while the bottom rail was 2 1/2″ wide. The rails and stiles were a bit thinner (~ 1 1/4″) than the traditional 1 1/2″ because of some twist that had to be planed out of the board. Fortunately the sash iron of the Stanley allows for a small range of thickness; stock that is too thin would yield a glazing rabbet that is too narrow. Next I clamped the rails (and then stiles) to the “story sticks” and transferred the joinery layout lines using a knife. Layout lines were transferred around the pieces and a marking gauge was used to define the tenon, mortise, and moulding depth (i.e., 3/8″).
Once the pieces were marked, the next step was to chop the mortises and saw the tenon cheeks. My Stanley 45 was then used to work the glazing rabbet and stick the ovolo moulding. The mortise chisel should match the width of the fillet. Mine was slightly undersized (5/16″) and this discrepancy was corrected by some additional paring in several of the steps below.
The tenon shoulders were then sawn and the tenon width was cut to match the mortise. The haunch sockets on the rails that accept the fillet from the stiles were then chopped.
The final step before assembly was creating a scribed joint so that the ovolo moulding on the stile was overlapped by the ovolo on the rails. The scribing process was as follows.
Cut away the moulding (ovolo) on the stile at the mortise leaving about 1/2″ of ovolo near the inside mortise wall, but let the fillet remain to form the haunch.
Stile after paring away the portion of ovolo moulding
On the end of the rail, first pare the ovolo using a 45 degree miter block. Next, using an in-cannel gouge suitable for the size of the ovolo moulding, pare away the mitered material to form the excavated area where the ovolo on the stile will pass under the ovolo on the rail.
Sash rail ovolo prior to pared miter
Paring ovolo using miter template
Rail ovolo after scribing with in-cannel gouge
Having finished all joinery and scribing each joint should be test fitted. Once a satisfactory fit is achieved the sash should be assembled. Before assembly I sawed kerfs into the tenons to accept oak wedges. I used hide glue and held the joints in place using clamps then the oak wedges were driven to serve as a mechanical counterpart to the glue.
It was pleasing to measure the diagonals of the sash and to find them in congruence. This meant I was successful at creating square joints all around. After the glue had cured, I sawed off the horns and cleaned up the sash with my smoothing plane. This project was a great learning experience for me and I hope this post assists some others trying to tackle sash joinery.
Anonymous. 2013. Doormaking and Window-Making (reprint). Lost Art Press, Fort Mitchell, KY.
Anonymous. 2016. The Woodworker: The Charles Hayward Years, Volume II. Lost Art Press, Fort Mitchell, KY.
George Ellis. 1987. Modern practical joinery (reprint). Linden Pub. Co., Fresno, CA. 486 p.
Paul Hasluck. 1907. Cassells’ carpentry and joinery. David McKay, Publisher, Philadelphia, PA. 614 p.
Charles Hayward. 1979. Woodwork Joints. Sterling Pub. Co. Inc. 128 p.
Roy Underhill. 1983. The Woodwright’s Companion – Exploring Traditional Woodcraft. UNC Press, Chapel Hill, NC. 203 p.
Roy Underhill. 2008. The Woodwright’s Guide: Working Wood with Wedge and Edge. UNC Press, Chapel Hill, NC. 192 p.
This spring I have been at work renovating my backyard shed workshop. Its exterior was in sore shape and I have been working to re-side the entire building as well as repair rotten framing. As part of this work, I needed build a window sash and a pair of batten doors. While I have leaned on a number of references for door and sash joinery, my primary one has been Doormaking and Window-Making, a reprint of a British publication done by Lost Art Press. A couple of articles in the recent Lost Art Press release, The Woodworker: The Charles H. Hayward Years, have also aided, especially the illustrations.
The doors I built for the shed are traditional board and batten (also know as ledged door) construction. Materials for the doors included tongue and groove pine, pine for the battens and braces, and 6d cut nails. I was fortunate that by buying two sizes of tongue and groove boards I was able to create a door nearly the size I needed. I started by placing the boards face down on my saw benches. I used a wooden mallet to align the boards and clamped them steady using bar clamps. Next I laid the battens 5” from the top and bottom. Following instructions in Doormaking and Window-Making, a screw was put through each batten into the outer boards and a nail was driven into the center board. The clamps were removed and the doors were flipped. Two pilot holes were drilled in each board at each batten with an offset to reduce splitting. Cut nails were clinched by placing a piece of 1/4” plate steel under each hole when the nail was driven. The braces were laid out and sawn and the notches in the each batten were chopped with a chisel. Braces were secured using clinched nails.
The door bottom was sawn square and to length. I planed each side of the door to achieve the correct width. Got pretty close with initial work but had to “fine-tune” the second door once the first was hung. The doors are a huge improvement over the warped plywood that they replaced. They are very solid and give the opening a nice new look (and function).
After building the five-board bench, I wanted to explore some more furniture. I settled on a Shaker side table and I found some good plans by Christian Becksvoort (a renowned Shaker furniture builder) in Fine Woodworking (#210). I planned to build the tapered leg version, but without a drawer.
It started with a trip to a local sawmill in August. It was to be my first furniture project where I started with rough sawn lumber. I wanted to buy some easily workable wood that was not costly. I bought 4/4 yellow-poplar for the top and aprons along with 8/4 yellow-poplar for the legs. I can home from the mill and set forth to rough dimension the pieces.
Given that my free time (and woodworking time is limited), it took me most of the fall to surface and final dimension the pieces needed for the table. The 8/4 material for the legs had difficult grain, unfortunately, and it created some considerable effort to get four legs dimensioned to 1 3/8” square. It did however provide opportunity for me to work on my plane iron sharpening skills.
For the top, I flattened one face and shot an edge on the two boards. Making sure the edges fit well together and were very slightly hollow along the length (i,e., a slight “sprung joint”), I glued up the board for the top. Once the Old Brown Glue was dried, I used my marking gauge to set the board thickness and surface the rough face. I believe that the board I used for the top was also not dried very well (moisture content above 11%) and it cupped and twisted quite a bit after this initial surface planing. It probably did not help that it was flat sawn and had grown rings from near the pith in it (further complicating the drying and stability). As all my pieces have been learning endeavours, this top allowed me much practice with the use of winding sticks and appropriate planing techniques to deal with twist.
Side Bar on Straight Edges and Winding Sticks: Based upon recommendations on the web referencing Chris Schwarz and Bill Anderson, I bought a length of aluminium angle as a long straight edge for the dimensioning of the top and legs. I first bought a piece of angle that was 1/16” thick and 1 ¼” wide on each side. I found this material to be too flexible to serve as a consistent straight edge. In other words, different hand pressure would make it flex across the length of a board making it look straight/flat when it was likely not. So I bought a second aluminium angle that was 1/8” thick by 1”. This seemed to be more functional as a straight edge. I turned the 1/16” angle into winding sticks by cutting the 4′ length in half and adding blue painter‘s tape on the top ends of one half to serve as a color contrast useful in sighting boards when they have “winding”. The thinner aluminium angle seemed to be okay for this purpose.
I followed the well-written detail in Robert Wearing’s The Essential Woodworker as a reference for laying-out and cutting the joints along with assembly of the table. It is a great reference and with the text and photos it was a straight forward process to complete the joinery. Leg mortises and mortises for the shrinkage buttons that attach the top were chopped with a 5/16” chisel. The haunch slots in the legs were completed by defining the vertical shoulder with a dovetail saw and paring the waste with a chisel. Legs were tapered by first removing the bulk of the waste with a rip saw and then finishing with my jack and jointer planes. The only word of caution with this approach is tear-out on the backside of the legs associated with the ripping. It would probably be better practice to use only a plane or to offset further from the taper line when sawing the rough taper. Once all the pieces were finished I did a round of final smoothing with my Stanley #4.
Legs were attached using drawboring. I relied on several sources for the drawboring methods including Peter Follansbee’s blog as well as the blog named A Riving Home. Holes on the two face sides of the legs were at least an 1” from the mortise end walls and were carefully aligned so pegs from opposite faces would not intersect. I used a 1/16” offset toward the shoulder on the tenon for the drawbore hole. Pegs were made by splitting straight grained red oak and shaped with a large chisel to taper over then entire length of the peg. The large end of the pegs were shaped to be slightly larger than 1/4″. Given the width of the legs (1 3/8”) and thickness of the aprons (7/8”) I had to remove some material on the inside of the aprons so the pegs could pass through the drawbore holes. This was done with a gouge. I did not use drawbore pins but did clamp the joint during assembly. After trepidation about splitting the piece with the drawboring, all pegs were driven, the joints were tight, and no splitting occurred. A relief, it was assembled!
Next I sawed off the horns from the legs, levelled the legs, and attached the top using the shrinkage buttons and #8 brass screws. The bevel on the bottom of the top was planed before assembly and was 1” wide and 1/8” tall. I debated about milk paint as a finish, but I wanted to preserve the contrast between the poplar and oak pegs so I opted for two coats of Danish oil sanded between coats with a brown paper bag. The piece will cure for a time and then I will finish it with paste wax.
The recent release of the Anarchist’s Design Book (Chris Schwarz, Lost Art Press) has reinforced my interest in “boarded” pieces that have a simple design and are constructed using rabbet and cut nail joinery. While waiting for my router plane to arrive so I may finish my side table project, I decided to build a small box using the techniques described in Schwarz’s book.
The piece started with a 1×12 purchased at the home center. I selected it so I could build the box out of pieces where the growth rings were perpendicular to the face such as wood that has been quarter-sawn or rived. Such straight grain pieces have good workability and are quite stable. A colleague who is wood science faculty member identified the board as ponderosa pine.
My first step in building was to layout the pieces I needed for the box and complete the appropriate rip and crosscuts. Once done I had the rough pieces for the box with a nice selection of grain patterns. I then planed one true face and shot the reference edge on all the pieces.
Rough pieces ready for dimensioning
For the top, bottom, front, and back of the box, I needed to dimension the boards to 1/2” thick so the piece had a better look. Having the reference face and edge along with the ends cut and planed appropriately, I set out to resaw the boards to the proper thickness. I clamped the boards in my twin screw vise and sawed the pieces with my 5 ½ ppi Disston D-23. It is my rip saw with the least set and has a rake of 8 degrees and 5 degrees fleam. I generally followed the methods outlined in Peter Follansbee’s blog post about re-sawing. I did a fair job sawing and with not too much planing the pieces were ready for assembly.
The rabbet joints were made by first sawing the shoulders and then roughing out the waste with a chisel. I used my recently arrived router plane to true the joints. Never using such a plane before in my work I was very impressed with how easily the joints were trued.
I assembled the box at the bench by holding the pieces with either a holdfast and/or a handscrew clamp. I used 4d finish cut nails for the carcass and 4d headless brads for the bottom. Chamfers on the lid and bottom were 3/8” wide by 1/4” tall. They were completed with a block plane cutting the ones on the end grain first. Added the hinges and finished with two coats of Danish oil rubbed with brown paper bag after each coat. I feel the parallel grain pattern of the ponderosa pine makes the piece.