They’re floating shelves, of course! What else could I have been implying?
I made these shelves out of 3/4″ plywood and hung them on French cleats.
They’re floating shelves, of course! What else could I have been implying?
I made these shelves out of 3/4″ plywood and hung them on French cleats.
Come along with me on a journey; a journey of craftsmanship, cabinets, and canned goods. Observe as I detail the steps I took to build this new cabinet in our kitchen so that we could move all of our food out of the cramped pantry and into the light where it belongs (the light where it belongs).
It all started with a SketchUp drawing:
My wife and I designed this cabinet to take up an entire wall in our kitchen that had previously only been home to a smaller more decorative cabinet that was more suited for display:
A very nice cabinet to be sure, but it was not meeting our needs. The room directly behind the wall the cabinet is on is our pantry, although it also holds the water heater and furnace air handler, so it is awkward to get in and out of. Once the new cabinet is built, we’ll move all of the food into it and use the old pantry for storage that won’t need to be accessed so frequently.
I started by building the box for the drawers. Plywood and pocket holes, nothing unusual here.
The corner cabinets are triangular in order to match the layout of the kitchen; I made them separate from the drawer box so that I’d be able to carry it into the house myself.
The intersection between the corner cabinets and the center drawer box is a 135º angle, so I glued up these pieces for the face frame so it could all be one piece to avoid having seams in the finished piece where the different cabinet boxes meet.
This worked better than I expected it to:
Here you can see the full face frame before I painted it.
I used full extension ball-bearing slides for all the drawers. They’re installed on spacers so that they will clear the edges of the face frame.
Each drawer is just a box held together with lock rabbet joints and a piece of quarter-inch plywood fit into a groove in the bottom. I’m glad I bought a strap clamp for this, although I should have bought more of them so I could glue up more than one drawer at a time.
At this point, all of the drawer boxes are built and installed and are ready for their fronts.
I cut all of the rails and stiles for the drawer faces and cabinet doors at the same time (sixty-eight pieces). They are all 2 1/4″ wide. (Ripping these pieces from larger S3S boards I bought from a lumberyard allowed me to both get the custom size I wanted and saved me about 65% of what I would have paid to buy poplar 1x3s from a big box store.)
I used cope and stick joinery for all of the drawer faces and doors. Here they are all dry-fit before I cut the panels…
…and after being glued together with the panels, which are made of quarter-inch plywood.
I moved the three base cabinets into the house. By this point, I had also painted the insides of the corner cabinets and drilled holes for adjustable shelving. You can also see an outlet that I would later extend into the corner cabinet.
I painted the face frame and all of the drawers before installing them in the house. And it only took forever! I should have used melamine for the drawer boxes; it would have cut way down on painting time, and I would have gotten a better finish.
The base cabinet has an oak countertop to match our kitchen table, garbage cabinet, and shoe cabinet. I made this the usual way.
Time to install the lower cabinet doors!
Oops. It isn’t very useful to have a handle six inches from the ground. I used a very strong magnet and dragged it up to the top of the door.
The upper section of the cabinet is made up of four parts: two corner cabinets, a lower shelving unit, and an upper display cabinet.
The face frame for the upper section was constructed in the same manner as the lower cabinet frame.
After painting and drilling more adjustable shelving holes, I learned how important it is to leave yourself an inch or two of wiggle room. I had designed this cabinet to come within half an inch of the ceiling, but when I began installing it, I found that our ceiling is 3/4″ closer to the floor on one end of the room than it is on the end that I measured on.
Luckily, I was able to make some adjustments and just barely get everything to fit.
I had originally been painting everything in my 8′ x 8′ spray booth, but with so many drawers and shelves to spray, I masked off the front of my shop instead. I used semi-gloss paint and did all of the painting with an HVLP sprayer. By the time I finished this project, I was consistently getting a really nice smooth finish.
The corner cabinet shelves are amputated triangles.
Haha, look at all those triangles.
The very top section of the cabinet is meant to have glass-front doors so we can display some of our very fancy things. This necessitated a different door construction so that I could easily paint the door before inserting the glass. I went with mitered half lap joints, my first time trying them.
I installed the glass doors, and the cabinet was almost done. (There are a lot of 3/4 views of this cabinet because the kitchen light fixture prevents me from taking a full shot from the front.)
After a week-long wait for my moulding order to come in, I added 3 1/2″ baseboard moulding and a 3/4″ cove moulding around the top.
Show ’em what you got, cabinet!
Not content to live in a house with only one barn-style sliding door, I’ve built another over-toilet cabinet
I made a few changes since the last time I made one of these:
Stay tuned for more updates on my bathroom activities!
This morning, I built a copy of the workbench from April Wilkerson’s latest video.
I didn’t add drawers underneath (yet) or any storage on the ends (yet), because my primary use case for this bench is to use it to break down full sheets of plywood and as an outfeed table for my table saw. To that end, I made it the same height as my table saw, and I didn’t make any changes that would prevent me from sliding sheets of plywood on it (like the drill holders that April added).
The total build time was four hours, plus an hour last night to make a poor-man’s track saw.
This is the story of how I turned this:
into this:
and how it only took me 411 days.
It all started when I pried some flagstones out of the hill next to our house. They were sticking out of the grass, and I thought I’d use them for a path somewhere.
As I pulled stones out of the grass, I noticed that there were more stones underneath. My sons and I decided to investigate, so we dug into the hill to see what we could find.
We found lots of rocks — fat rocks, skinny rocks, rocks who climb on rocks.
Some of them looked really interesting too. Lots of colors were represented: tan, gray, slate, blue, red, orange, purple. (Just like the ol’ rainbow acronym: TGSBROP.)
Once we found that there was a seemingly unlimited supply of these stones in our hillside, we decided to make an entire patio out of them. Before my wife could change her mind, I stripped the woodchips from the side of our house in preparation for laying down stones.
I had to move some dirt around to level it and get it down the appropriate height down to allow for space for the sand and gravel foundation.
In other parts of the yard, I had to add dirt to get it up to the correct height. I ordered a load of topsoil and a willing helper.
Some parts of the yard needed to be raised as much as 18 inches, so I set up some guides to let me know when I had the dirt high enough. This didn’t work especially well, but it did work.
Of course, when adding dirt, you need to compact it. I bought a hand tamper from Home Depot and started compacting.
Two days and one case of carpal tunnel syndrome later, I bought a mechanical compacter instead. This allowed me to finish this part of the project before I die due to the heat death of the universe.
Because the edge of the patio would be a foot and a half above grade in some spots, I bought some railroad ties and used them as a retaining wall around the edge.
I secured the bottom run of ties to the dirt with 24″ rebar and the top ties with 12″ galvanized spikes (into the bottom ties).
While I was preparing the site, I was still digging out stones from the hill, and they were getting bigger as I dug deeper.
Some of the larger stones were too heavy to carry up the hill, so I had to either break them in half or pull them up on a makeshift sled.
By Memorial Day (of last year), I had the dirt leveled out and all of the railroad ties installed.
I had a couple of extra railroad ties, so I built a pad for a hot tub we were considering buying.
By this time, I had been mining our hillside for three months and had amassed a sizeable collection of stones. I did a double-take when I noticed I had accidentally arranged them like this:
I ordered a load of gravel and a load of sand. Laying these down on top of the dirt should ensure that water doesn’t pool underneath the stones and cause problems, especially during freezing/thawing times of the year.
I rented a Bobcat to make the chore of moving the gravel and sand a weekend job instead of a rest-of-my-life job.
Well worth the money.
Now that I had the soil leveled and covered with three inches of gravel and two inches of sand, I could start laying the stones down.
As I continued to lay down more stones, the building inspectors stopped by the check my work.
Here’s an overhead view from around the time I stopped working on the patio last fall. As school started up and the weather got colder and rainier, I lost a lot of motivation.
In the spring, I kept digging up stones, and again, they kept getting bigger.
Maybe too big… I broke my shovel trying to pry this one out.
This is the point that I gave up on the idea of covering the entire patio in stone. It was taking far too long to dig up enough stone to cover the entire patio, and I was getting tired of hauling them up the hill.
Plan B: artificial turf. Fake grass has come a long way from the plasticky Brady Bunch sod of my childhood; Costco sells a brand called Pregra that is easily mistaken for real grass once it’s installed.
It came in two 25-foot rolls, which each weighed about a million pounds. I wrestled them over to the patio, unrolled them, and cut them to fit the space.
While the flat grass look is classic, I wanted to try something more reminiscent of rolling foothills, but I was overruled.
After cutting the turf, I secured it to the ground with landscaping spikes and then filled the spaces between the stones with Polysweep, a polymeric sand. It’s like sand, but it hardens once it gets wet.
Here’s a better shot of the dried Polysweep and the pad for our fire pit.
The last step for the artificial turf was to add infill to puff up the grass and give it some extra durability. I used four hundred pounds of play sand, and I spread it with a grass seed spreader.
After spreading the sand, I brushed it in with a push broom, and then I wrote a perfect segue into the end of this post.
If you scrolled to the bottom hoping that instead of reading a boring write-up, you could watch a timelapse of the entire process, you’re in luck. Enjoy!
Chickens, they say, are the most industrious of all birds. They are not content to while away the hours just pecking and clucking; they want to be put to work. For this reason, I built for our chickens a chicken tractor.
Unlike its human counterpart, a chicken tractor does not have an engine or even a cupholder. A chicken tractor is a portable chicken coop-like structure that allows the chickens to be transported to different locations around the yard, where they may then eat bugs, scratch at the dirt, and perform other chicken duties.
I began my tractor journey by designing the structure in Sketchup.
It’s essentially a box with a door at one end and a roof with a 5º slope (to match the main coop, of course).
Rather than butt-jointing and toe-screwing all of the boards like in the main coop (what is this, an anatomy lesson??), I decided to try using half-laps for all of the joints.
I found this to be time-consuming. I also found this to create a lot of sawdust.
I made one frame for each side of the tractor and then screwed them all together.
To increase the structure’s rigidity, I added some supports across the top (not shown) and some supports in the lower corners (shown below).
The door fit perfectly (of course) in the taller end.
For the handles and wheel, I took this broken wheelbarrow and chopped it up.
The axle is angled up at about 10º so that the bottom of the wheel just barely touches the ground when the tractor is stationary. Then, when I lift up the handles, the frame of the tractor will be off the ground, engaging the wheel.
I attached the roof panels (extras left over from building the coop), and hardware cloth over the side openings, and voila! A box with a wheel!
The chickens love it! They were all like “Cluck cluck cluck cluck!”
The single wheel idea, while ingenious, did not work out in practice. I had to lift the end of the tractor much higher than I wanted to in order to get clearance under the far end, so I added two wheels, taken from a bike that I’m sure my kids won’t miss probably. This raises the end of the coop up two inches off the ground, but it makes it much more maneuverable. If I ever put chicks in here, I’ll have to add some sort of skirt that prevents them from sneaking out.
Only one more touch was needed to turn this tractor into a home.
Now you might be saying, “Chris, did you build this entire project just so you’d have an excuse to use this chicken knob?” In response to your question, I have a lot of questions. Number one, how dare you.
Have you ever found yourself in a situation where you wished you could escape from your problems? Well if you had this 8-bit emergency kit, you could grab the hammer, smash your way to a P-Wing, and fly away.
For the uninitiated, the hammer and P-Wing are items from Super Mario Bros. 3., one of the greatest games made for the original Nintendo Entertainment System. The hammer lets Mario break rocks in the map, and the P-Wing allows him to fly for an entire level (but only a single level). It’s a very useful item, but it’s also very rare, so it must be saved for just the right occasion. Let me walk you through how I built this.
Like all good things, this project started with a board of quarter-sawn red oak.
I chopped and sliced the board until I had these six pieces.
I glued two of the longer pieces together to make the back of the box, and I mitered the ends of the rest of the boards for the box sides. I cut a groove (not pictured) in each of the sides to accept the back of the box.
The photo above is a dry fit. Because the box holds the glass (“glass”) front captive, I couldn’t glue it up until the very last step.
I originally made a mushroom out of Perler beads to use as the power-up, but it didn’t seem worthy of emergency use. Nobody was ever psyched about getting a mushroom from a Toad House.
I decided to make a P-Wing out of wood instead. I cut a pixel grid on some oak with my X-Carve and then cut out the P-Wing shape on the bandsaw.
A splash of paint and the P-Wing is done. The P-Wing looks superimposed on this photo because it’s sitting on the top of a bottle, not floating in the air.
I made the hammer head the same way, by carving a grid on the X-Carve and then cutting out the real shape on the bandsaw.
I don’t have any bits that could cut two inches deep, and cutting the edges on the bandsaw resulted in sharper corners.
In order to attach a handle, I cut a 15/16″ hole through the hammer head. Reenactment pictured below.
I filed the top of the hole to flare it out so that the handle would fit better as I pounded the wedges into it. (I also took some liberties and cut a space between the hammer claws, even though it’s not clear from the game that the hammer has separate claws.)
I apparently forgot to take any pictures of the handle-making process, so you’ll have to take my word for it that I used part of a broken broomstick, rounded the ends, cut an X in one end, and then pounded walnut wedges into it to secure the handle in place.
(This video explains the process of using wedges to attach a hammer handle.)
This was my first time successfully making my own wedges for a hammer and my most successful X-shaped wedging.
The last step for the hammer was to coat it with clear enamel. This really made the contrast between the walnut head and the birch (?) handle pop.
I decided to use this project to make a spline-cutting jig and cut splines for the first time. It went better than expected!
The splines are walnut so as to match the hammer.
I originally wanted a vinyl sticker for the “In case of emergency label,” but I don’t have the means to make one, and ordering a single custom sticker from a sign-maker would have been cost-prohibitive. So instead, I cut a little placard on the X-Carve.
To mount the sign and P-Wing inside the box, I used epoxy to affix two more pieces of the aforementioned broomstick. I used epoxy instead of wood glue because this joint involves end-grain, which doesn’t always adhere well with just glue, and I don’t want these joints to fail since there is no way to fix them without breaking in to the box.
You can see in the above picture that at some point, I cut a groove around the top edge of the box to accept the glass front, which is really plexiglass because I was going to be sending this box through the mail and I didn’t trust it to arrive unbroken. So if there is an emergency that merits breaking the glass, you’ll have to hit it really hard.
I mounted the sign and P-Wing to the ends of the broomstick dowels with epoxy as well.
At this point, the bottom two corners of the box are glued together, and the plexiglass front can go in. But first, I needed to figure out how to attach the hammer to the box.
After poking around in my spare parts bin for a minute, I made a simple hook out of two pieces of a wire clothes hanger.
I drilled holes into the bottom of the box and epoxied the hooks in place. I also added a picture-hanging hook, although I’ve been exclusively using 3M Velcro strips to hang things for about three years.
You can see in the above picture that I glued the top on, effectively securing the contents of the box forever. That’s not true, I lied. Instead of using wood glue on the top corners, I used hide glue. Hide glue has the useful property that it can be loosened with heat, so if the box ever does need to be opened for repairs or some nefarious purpose, the owner could heat the top corners with a heat gun or hot water, and the top of the box should come loose.
Here’s a shot of the finished splines and hammer hook.
And a shot of the hammer in place.
And the final product. I sent it to a friend who needed something to jazz up a newly renovated space, and I can only assume that upon hanging it up, he installed a spotlight to showcase it and a velvet rope to protect it.
A few weeks ago, my wife mentioned that she’d like me to find something to cover the septic tank cleanout in the front yard. I had strategically placed a bird bath next to it two years ago, but I guess people were still able to see the pipe.
Where I’m from, when we have a problem we can’t get rid of, we cover it with a wishing well. So I volunteered to build a wishing well… but not just any old wishing well. Keep reading to learn the secret of the well.
I started off with some rough-cut 8/4 cedar.
I cut one of these 2x12s into three boards, each about 3.5″ tall and 1.75″ thick, to use for the base of the well.
From the boards, I cut eight matching pieces (each with a 22.5º miter on each end) using a miter sled I made for the occasion.
I used biscuits and glue and clamped the octagonal base together with a tie-down strap.
At the lumberyard, I also bought a handful of 6′ 1×6 fence boards. I cut each of these into six two-foot 1x3s. Some of the boards were drier than others.
I screwed the cut-down fence boards into the inside of the base, four on each side. I elevated them about half an inch so they wouldn’t have end grain in direct contact with the ground.
I repeated the process I followed for the base to make a collar around the top of the fence boards, and then I added two roof supports. Each support has two 45º miters at the top.
The lip of the well will be octagonal as well, but with the wide sides of the boards facing up. Two of the sides must be notched to fit around the roof supports, so I made a template out of cardboard.
Seven of the lip pieces are biscuited and glued together. The seven-piece part and the remaining piece are each screwed to the roof supports. More on why it’s assembled this way later.
I chose to alternate the wood colors around the lip, partly because I liked how it looked and other-partly because that was the most efficient way to use the boards.
The roof frame comprises two triangles, one attached to each vertical support.
I attached the triangles and added rafters made from leftover fence boards.
Every wishing well needs a place to hang a bucket, so I made handle and spindle out of a scrap of cedar and an old clothes-hanging rod from a closet we remodeled.
I shingled the roof with cedar shingles I picked up with the lumber, and the well is good to go!
Or is it?? (Oh, I also finished all of the weather-facing wood with some spar urethane before continuing.)
This well’s secret is that when you peek inside, you won’t see the aforementioned septic cleanout. You’ll gaze into an endless simulated abyss, your brain fooled by just a pair of mirrors and a string of lights. Ha ha! Stupid brain!
This illusion is known as an infinity mirror. There are many tutorials online for building these mirrors, but I do believe I am the first person to combine one with a wishing well. I’ll wait while you rush to create a Wikipedia entry for me, now that I am most definitely notable.
I added supports for the mirror about three inches below the bottom of the lip. The lip had to be removable so that I could insert the mirror, and, if necessary, remove it later.
The mirror base (and all of the rest of the parts) were cut on my X-Carve CNC router.
The second layer of the infinity mirror is a standard round mirror, twenty inches in diameter. I got this mirror (and the glass for a later step) custom-made by my local glass shop.
The interior of the infinity mirror is two layers of 3/4″ plywood with an octagonal opening (to mimic the inside shape of the well) plus a piece of quarter-inch plywood on each side with a circular opening that fits around the glass. I glued all of these layers together and then painted all of the interior edges black.
I drilled a hole in one corner where the LED light strip will enter the mirror.
After fitting this section over the bottom mirror, I threaded the LEDs into the frame and used the adhesive backing to attach them around the edge.
Once the LEDs were in place, I added the top mirror, which is actually a two-way mirror. I bought a round piece of glass and applied silver privacy film to one side, creating a mirror that you can look through from one side. On top of this mirror, I added another 3/4″ plywood octagon, a sheet of plexiglass to protect the glass from errant footballs, and a final quarter-inch octagon to hold the plexiglass down. With the lights on, this is what the mirror looks like at this point:
But what is controlling the LEDs, Chris? Surely this wishing well is not plugged into the wall! That would ruin the illusion!
You are correct. I did not plug the well in to the wall. The LEDs are powered by a battery pack that I inset into the bottom of the standalone lip side. Here’s a shot of it before I attached it to the well:
The battery pack is also a motion sensor, so the lights inside the well automatically turn on whenever someone walks up to it (and turn off 30 seconds later). See for yourself:
I made what could be called a Nelson-style bench to use as a step next to our hot tub.
It’s about four feet long, 13″ tall, and 11″ deep. The legs are angled out at 10º, and the top is composed of five one-inch wide slats. All of the wood came from one of these cedar 2x12s.
First, I cut the two legs. They’re about thirteen inches long with both ends mitered at 80º.
I cut the sides of each finger joint into the ends of the legs with the table saw, removed most of the inner material with a coping saw, and then cleaned it up with the table saw again.
I cut out five four-foot strips from the 2×12 and then planed them down slowly until they fit perfectly into each finger joint. Here’s a photo of the dry-fit. (I also tapered the bottom of the end of each slat at 80º.)
I glued the slats into the legs and clamped them for an afternoon.
I cut a chamfer into the edges of the slats in the middle section so it’s easier on the butt (or feet, depending on how the bench/step is being used).
When the cedar-friendly varnish I ordered gets here, I’ll give it a couple of coats to preserve the wood’s color, but it’s otherwise finished and perfectly functional.
I made my first bandsaw box. While I’m very happy with the end result (and pleased that it looks like an ice cream sandwich), I thought that instead of crowing about how great it is, I’d list all of the mistakes I made so that I can avoid them the next time I make one.
Hopefully, the next time I make a bandsaw box, I only make seventeen or fewer mistakes.
I have fulfilled the greatest dreams of my childhood and built an arcade machine that plays my favorite games from the Nintendo, Super Nintendo, and more.
There are many very good tutorials on the Web on how to build your own bartop arcade, so I won’t be going into a ton of detail. I mainly followed this tutorial from I Like to Make Stuff and this one from The Geek Pub. The basic steps are to get a Raspberry Pi computer, load RetroPie onto it, buy some arcade buttons, and make it all fit into a box.
I already had a Raspberry Pi that I won at That Conference a couple of years ago, but I got my buttons from Amazon. The set came with enough buttons and joysticks for two players to each have eight buttons plus a coin and player button.
The LEDs inside are powered by the USB connection to the Raspberry Pi.
For all of the non-rectangular pieces, I cut them out using my X-Carve. This was especially helpful for all of the button holes, since they were not the same size as any of my drill bits.
After getting the holes cut in the control panel, I wired up the entire system and made sure that it worked. A couple quick rounds of Mike Tyson’s Punch-Out confirmed that everything was copacetic.
For the monitor frame, I cut a window the exact size of the screen, then an inlay that would cover the bezel, and a deeper inlay for the area where the screen’s buttons are so that they wouldn’t get pressed by the frame.
Doing the frame this way hides the fact that the screen is a monitor, something that lots of other builds don’t do. I don’t want to be taken out of the moment by a distracting monitor logo and LED light. Ugh! An LED, can you imagine?? I did drill tiny holes in front of each button so they can still be pushed using a paperclip, but the holes became almost invisible after I painted the frame.
The monitor is attached to the frame by a board screwed into its mounting holes. I didn’t do this exactly right, so check one of the linked tutorials for a better example.
I followed The Geek Pub’s example, and attached guide strips where all of the sides needed to be attached. Then I glued and nailed the sides to the guides.
Lots of bartop arcade builders order custom vinyl graphics for their cabinets. I decided to go low-tech and painted a simple retro design on the cabinet and control panel in the same colors as the buttons.
Instead of going the usual route of a translucent graphic on plexiglass for the marquee, I carved a custom Nintendo logo bitmap into some quarter-inch plywood. I did this with a halftone-generator app I wrote for Easel, but it hasn’t been published for general use yet, so I can’t link to it here.
I covered the back of the marquee with red paper so that the logo will appear red when an LED light is mounted behind it.
I lined the marquee box with reflective tape to increase reflectivity. This was probably unnecessary.
The front panel holds the Coin and Player buttons for each player. Coin doubles as Select, and Player is the same as Start.
I also mounted a pair of USB ports on the front panel to allow for easy connection of a keyboard, thumb drive, or USB controllers.
All of the electronics plug into a power strip that feeds out the back of the cabinet. I was originally going to use the speakers built into the monitor, but they didn’t have nearly enough power, so I stuck some external speakers in the cabinet too.
To allow for heat to vent out, I carved a number of holes into the back in no particular shape.
I also ran some t-molding around all of the exposed plywood edges. This really gave it an authentic arcade feel.
You can find instructions online for loading games onto the Pi, but it goes without saying that you should only use games that you already own a physical copy of.
The final step: invite the kids to play so you can inevitably step in and show them up. Done and done!
I just finished building a 16-puzzle storage box so that we can consolidate all of our board puzzles from three different smaller boxes to one large one.
Not a lot to say about this one; it’s just a Baltic birch box with a bunch of little supports along each side. I used lock rabbets to join the box sides and 1/4″ plywood for the back.
Can you help me determine the author of a humorous World War II poem about toilets?
While I was clearing out my late father-in-law’s attic, I came across three cases of Kodachrome slides taken by his late cousin David Tewes, who had been a soldier stationed in Alaska during World War II. Among the slides was a group of photos taken in Attu, Alaska during the War, and one of those photos, labeled “An Aleutian Latrine — Our XMas Card”, contained an unattributed poem and a shot of a soldier doing his “business” in the snow.
The poem is transcribed below.
An Aleutian Latrine
Out on the wind swept tundra,
A place where howling winds will play
Stands a new three hole cabin
Overlooking a cold, cold bay.
It’s a very rugged country,
For here nature lovely calls.
You have a choice of constipation
Or a dose of frozen whatsis.
When the mercury says zero
And the weather’s very mean,
Then a man must be a hero,
When he visits our latrine.
For the seat is white with snowdrift
And the breeze blows thru the hole,
So your whosis gets frost bit
And your whatsis blue from cold.
It’s a struggle thru high snow drifts,
While the howling winds cut cappers
With a sigh, you sink on frozen boards
And reach out for the toilet paper.
Then gloom surrounds you, no paper is there
While you are in a bad position.
You can not act, nor seek relief,
Till channels clear that requisition.
I’ve seen brave men stoop to sugar bowls
Even paper bags and cans
And some even lost the fight
And did it in their pants.
It takes guts to serve your country,
As a sailor or marine…
But a man must be a hero
When he visits our latrine.
It takes guts to be a soldier,
And to heed your country’s call.
It matters not the whosis be cold
And although you loose your whatsis.
For when the work is over,
and the bloody war is won,
If you’ve used our ole three holer
Then — you are a man, my son.
* “whatsis” and “whosis” are placeholder words used to avoid giving offense. Use the rhyme scheme to decode their secret meaning!
I have not been able to find another copy of this poem; Google definitely doesn’t know about it. I would love to track down the author if the author is known.
It’s possible that David wrote this poem, although he did not sign his name to it. Based on his photos and his hobbies shown in his other photographs, I wouldn’t be surprised if he did write it.
Chris Steller pointed out on Twitter that the author Dashiell Hammett was stationed in the Aleutian Islands at the same time that David was there. It would stand to reason, however, that if Hammett had written the poem, David would have wanted to note that, since Hammett was well-known for his book and movie The Maltese Falcon.
The rest of David’s photos from Attu are posted on the website I built to showcase his photography, in case you can find any clues therein. Any and all tips, ideas, or wild speculations are welcome in the comments below!
For part of the gift I sent through the Secret Santa exchange at work this year, I decided to make a bowl with the Automattic company logo inlaid in the bottom. I’ve never made a bowl or done an inlay before, so this was definitely a wise decision that would not backfire.
I started by using my X-Carve to carve out a deep recess in some walnut to receive the inlay. The plan at this point was to have the inlay visible on both the outside and inside bottoms of the bowl, so I carved it about an inch and a half deep to give me plenty of room for error. (<– Foreshadowing.)
I cut the inlaid pieces out of some maple, since it would have a natural contrast with the dark walnut.
I glued the maple in, flattened the surface, and cut the walnut to a roughly circular blank on the bandsaw.
I mounted the blank on the lathe and carved the outside profile of the bowl. Because I made the blank by gluing two pieces of walnut together (top to bottom), I added three decorative grooves: one on the seam to hide it, and one on either side for good measure. The grain lined up well enough that it’s hard to tell that it’s not one solid piece.
The lathe chuck I was originally going to use would have tightened around the tenon.(In the photo above, the tenon is the protruding portion on the right side that contains the inlay.) Unfortunately, it broke, and the chuck I ended up using (shown below) needed a recess to expand into, so I cut all of the tenon off (and then some). Because of this change, there wasn’t enough of the inlay left to have it visible on both the inside and outside of the bowl.
I hollowed out the inside of the bowl, being careful not to go too deep.
After finishing the bowl with Watco Danish oil, I let it cure, and then I mailed it off to my unsuspecting coworker along with some treats to fill it. If he doesn’t like corporate wooden dishware, I hope he at least likes American candy.
On today’s episode of Finkstructables, I’m going to be walking you through the steps to make your very own kidney stone paperweight.
Step 1: Create a kidney stone.
I made this stone with my right kidney, but you could use your left one if you like. Now, you want the stone to be large enough that it’s easy to see but small enough that it doesn’t cause you crippling pain on its way out. I nailed the former but overshot it on the latter. Oops!
Step 2: Encase the stone in resin.
I used this “crystal clear” epoxy resin, although I learned after the fact that it only stays clear if you pour it in increments of less than a quarter inch. I did the entire thing in two one-inch pours, and the heat generated by the curing process discolored the resin, turning it yellow. Oops!
You should use a mold that is made for casting resin so that you can easily remove the block once it’s done curing:
This mold was supposedly ok to use with resin, which I guess it was. It just wasn’t reusable with resin. Oops!
Now that you have easily removed your crystal clear block of resin from the mold, cut it into a projection of a 2-dimensional kidney shape. I used my bandsaw for this step:
Then, trim off the edges at about a 45º angle, bringing it closer to a 3-D representation of a kidney.
Be careful to prevent the warm resin shavings from sticking to your bandsaw bearings and hardening in place, or your saw might not want to start the next time you use it. Oops!
Begin sanding the resin, first removing any saw marks, and then removing all of the scratches from the previous grit level. I sanded mine with 80, 120, 200, 600, 1000, and 2000 grit paper.
Once you’ve exhausted your sandpaper options, switch to rubbing compound. I used these polishing wheels by chucking them into my drill press.
After polishing the entire paperweight with rubbing compound, it should look something like this:
Now you can move on to polishing compound. This will give your kidney a glossy shine, and if you neglected to get all the bubbles out when you poured, your stone will appear to be floating in a sea of resiny stars.
And that’s it! Now every time you use your paperweight, you’ll remember all of the fun times you and your stone shared together.
That paper’s not going anywhere. Thanks, kidney stone!
Here are a couple more Christmas gifts that came out of the workshop. The first one is a wall-hanging for my die-hard Vikings fan mother-in-law. I cut it on the X-Carve and hand-painted it.
This one is for my parents to hang up pictures of the grandkids:
If you’re wondering whether making a sign like this makes up for moving 2,000 miles away with the grandkids, the answer is “mostly.”
I made four little animal chairs for young family members this Christmas:
The process for each chair was basically the same: cut out sides on the X-Carve, cut the seat and seatback on the table saw, and screw them together. I hand-painted the elephant and unicorn, and I finished the whale and otter with Danish oil and spray enamel.
If you have an X-Carve and would like to make these, I’ve published projects at Inventables for the otter, elephant, and whale. (The image that the unicorn chair is based on is not freely licensed, so I am not publishing my project for that chair.)
For a couple of the younger kids on my Christmas gift list this year, I made name puzzles with my X-Carve.
The puzzles are made out of Baltic birch plywood; the letters are 1/4″ thick and the base is 1/2″ thick.
I cut out the letters of the name (and some additional puzzle pieces) with a very small bit (1/32″), so when the letters are placed in the puzzle, they have a total of 1/16″ of play. This is probably the maximum allowable play before the pieces start to feel loose.
These letters were from a proof-of-concept puzzle that I didn’t end up finishing, but you get the idea.
I carved the puzzle piece insets 1/8″ deep and rounded the corners of the base.
On one of the puzzles, I also included the logos of the Minnesota Wild and the Minnesota Twins. I gave the Wild logo some depth by carving out one of the areas that was a single color. This made it easier to paint too.
After painting the pieces, I gave them and the bases a couple of coats of clear enamel.
Which piece goes where???
I hope that the kids like these for now, and when they get older, they can glue the pieces in place and use these as wall or door hangings.
If you have an X-Carve and want to make these puzzles (or variations thereof, if you don’t know a Minnesotan child named Justin), the Easel projects are here (Justin) and here (Alyssa).
One of my favorite aspects of Inventables’s X-Carve CNC router is Easel, their free online carving software. My favorite part of Easel is that it is programmable — you can write apps for it. Apps automate tasks like turning an image into a puzzle, carving gears, or making inlays. Inventables has written nine apps and published another 14 from independent developers, and today, they’ve published my first app, Plug Cutter.
Plug Cutter turns your X-Carve into (wait for it) a plug cutter. What’s a plug cutter? It’s a woodworking tool that creates short dowels that you can use to cover screw holes. Here’s one that Rockler sells for cutting 1/4″ plugs ($16.99):
The Plug Cutter app turns your X-Carve into a plug cutter that can cut plugs in any size. The only constraint is your imagination (and the size of your X-Carve) (and the known diameter of the universe)!
Choose your plug quantity, diameter, and depth, and the app will organize them on your workpiece to minimize waste.
This is what the plug layout shown above looks like after it has been carved:
And this is what the plugs look like once they’ve been put into use:
The app itself is written in about 170 lines of JavaScript. It supports working in inches and millimeters, and it shows the exact cut that the X-Carve will make, depending on your current bit diameter.
You can see the Plug Cutter app’s sourcecode on GitHub, and if you have an Inventables account, you can try the app in Easel by clicking the Apps button and scrolling down until you see Plug Cutter:
If you try it out, post a shot of your plugs in the comments!
What do you hang your towels on? A plain old towel bar? Ha. A hook on the back of the door? Sad. You drape them over the shoulders of a mannequin like a cape? Ok that’s pretty cool.
But what would be even cooler would be to hang your towels on a towel rack that says “Towels.”
There’s no mistaking what goes on these hooks. Thinking of hanging up a bathrobe? Get out of here, buster. This rack is for towels.
“But there are so many hooks and I only have two towels!” Not my problem. Buy more towels.
If you want to make this towel rack that says “Towels,” head on over to the towel rack project page at Inventables.