Design Notebook: A New Bench

Another "thought exercise" sort of post.

Background & Purpose

One of the projects I've been (slowly) working on is clearing my garage to a point where I can use it as a shop.  It's going to take some time, since I'll also have to insulate it, but I've made a start.  One thing I've recently started giving serious consideration to is the bench.  What I'm using right now is roughly two feet deep by four feet long.  It's great for the space I have, but if I'm going to have more space, I want a larger bench.

I've been going back and forth on this internally for quite a while, and it may happen again, but I think I've figured out roughly what I want.  My two initial impulses were an English-style bench, with a wide apron and nothing underneath, or a Shaker style bench, with lots of built-in storage.  I think I've settled on the Shaker type, largely because I like the way they look.  The other advantage is that I know from experience that I'll keep piling things under my bench until any open space is full, and a Shaker bench will at least force me to get things somewhat organized.

Requirements

What I've thought about so far:

1) Weight.  It needs to be heavy to stay still, and shouldn't need to be moved within the shop very often.  A Shaker bench is good for weight, given the drawers.  However, I'm sure I'll move house again, so it should be possible to either break it down or somehow make it, if not portable, then at least moveable.

2) Tail Vise.  I'd like a tail vise of some sort... I'm leaning towards something like this, which seems to be the new standard.  It should be both more solid and easier to build than a traditional vise, and more useful than a wagon vise.

3) Front vise.  I'm torn on this one.  I love my leg vise:  If I were doing it again, I'd build it out of something harder and stiffer than pine, but using it is great.  On the other hand, it does have some shortcomings.  I'd really like to try a shoulder vise, which is something that would fit a lot better on a large bench than my little one.  What I'll likely do is build up a shoulder vise and attach it with Timber Lok screws, which would certainly provide enough strength to keep it stable.  If I end up not liking it, I'll either install a metal quick-release vise or another leg vise.

4) Holdfasts.  I'm not willing to give up my holdfasts, so I'll need to leave a gap under the benchtop.  The top plus the gap needs to total about 7", which is quite doable.  I'd like to shoot for a 3" top with 4" underneath.  I'll probably leave that space open, since it's not ideal for storage, and hang a shelf over the bench for the things I store there now.

5) Board jack/sliding deadman.  One of the things I dislike on my current bench is trying to support long pieces of wood.  I'd originally planned to replace it with an English-style bench with an apron, but I think I like the idea of the board jack better.  It will also leave some space for...

6) Storage.  I'm torn on this.  On the one hand, I can always use more storage.  On the other hand, I like working out of my toolchest, and I'm not sure I love the idea of having access potentially blocked by whatever I'm working on.  I think the drawers will likely end up filled with things like hinges, fasteners, and the like, with maybe a few rarely-used tools to fill out the set.  I can't know what I'm going to wind up putting in them until I've got it built, though, so I'm not going to worry about it.  One thing I do know is that I want the drawers to be transportable:  What I'm thinking at the moment is that for each drawer I'll cut a piece of wood (possibly 1/4" ply) for a top, and store it under the drawer.  When the time comes to move, I'll be able to pull out the drawer, tack the top in place with nails, and stack it in the moving van.  That way I can move the bench without all the drawers, and the drawers can stay packed while I move everything.

7) Top.  My current bench is just about 24" deep and 50" long.  I don't love either dimension.  The back 6-10" of the top really only get used for tool storage, which shouldn't be happening.  50" isn't really long enough to work on large assemblies, though I've been making it work.  The traditional Shaker bench is significantly deeper than I want, and I'd like to try out a tool well.  So my current thinking is to make a solid top about 18" deep, with a tool well behind that. I can always put spacers in the well if I need the extra space, and in the meantime it should stay useable.

Design Considerations

I built my current bench out of Douglas Fir and 3/4" plywood.  I like the Douglas Fir:  it's hard, it's stable, and it looks good.  The plywood I'm not such a fan of... it's stable and reliable, but I don't much like the look.  I'll probably stick to a frame of DF, probably in the form of 4x4.  I might just use 4x4 for the legs, and use either 2x stock for the rails:  that will depend on how much overkill I want to go with and what lumber I can find.

For the top, I'd like to go solid wood.  My current bench has a plywood top, and while it's OK, drilling dog holes really isn't practical with hand tools.  Since I'm planning on a tail vise, what I may do is make the front 3" or so out of some hardwood, maple or oak for preference.  I can cut square mortises in that before gluing it in place, and have a good way to deal with surface planing long boards.  Behind that, I'll almost certainly go with laminated softwood;  pine, more DF, or whatever's cheap and straight at the lumber yard.  Either way I'll want the top at least 3" thick, to provide a good grip for my holdfasts.  Alternatively, I may buy a prefab laminated top, if I can find one thick enough (or two at a good enough price).

I do intend to paint everything but the top and the leg that will likely be used as a vise:  the more photos I see, the more I realize I want some color in my shop.  I'm planning for white walls and ceiling to add light, so any color is going to have to come from the furniture.

Conclusion

None of this is settled, but at least the rough outlines should work well.  With luck, I'll be able to start on this project this summer.  Without... well, design work is good mental exercise, and maybe it'll help someone else who's trying to figure out what to do for a bench.

Plane repairs

About six months ago, I bought a wooden moving fillister plane on ebay.  It's a design I hadn't seen before, but looked like it was in pretty good shape, and the seller was able to confirm that all the parts moved the way they should.

Also something I hadn't seen... those lines on the side of the body are depth markings.  They're perfectly parallel to the sole, and are mostly in 1/8" increments.  It's not perfectly accurate, but it's close enough for a rough setting.

Once I got it, I touched up the iron (it still needs a more thorough sharpening, but it's workable), and gave it a try.  On long-grain cuts, it worked quite well.  It showed a little bit of tendency to jam, but was otherwise fine.  On cross-grain cuts, it was pretty bad.  It worked, but the edges were ragged.  After a little poking, I realized there was no problem at all with the nicker: the slot is worn enough that it needs a shaving for padding behind it, but other than that it's fine.

The problem was that the iron wasn't original, and was too wide.  On a moving fillister plane, the iron needs to line up pretty exactly with the nicker.  On this plane, the iron extended almost a full 1/16" beyond the nicker, which mean the nicker couldn't do its job.

So last night I spent close to an hour filing down the outer edge of the iron.  I could have used a grinder, but I hate using them and I didn't want to risk overheating the blade.  Eventually, I got it down to just about the right width, and it works far, far better now.

It can always get better, but right now it's in perfectly useable condition, at least in soft woods.

Toy Chests for my Nephews

This was a fun project in a lot of ways.  It was also the first time I needed stitches for something I did to myself while woodworking.  Oops.

Last year, my sisters suggested -- possibly in jest -- that it would be cool to have a pair of toy chests that would fit under the windows in their sunroom.  I agreed that would be cool, and carefully didn't promise anything.  In the end, though, the temptation was too great, and I got to work over the summer.

Design

What do toy chests need?  A lot of space, a lot of strength, and air holes.  Especially if you've got twin boys, SOMEONE is going to end up trapped inside one of them sooner or later.  Size was more or less a given:  they couldn't be more than about 22" high and still fit under the windows, and they couldn't be more than about 32" long and fit on the oddly shaped wall.  

Everything else was taken directly from the lumber I was using.  I decided to build it frame-and-panel, since I don't much like doing big glue-ups (more commentary on that later), so I sat down and worked out sizing.  I don't have a power tool capable of easily ripping to a given width, so I wanted to have as few rips as possible.  I therefore sat down with a table of common widths of pine to work out sizes.

I knew that I wanted to use 2x2 for the legs.  It was cheap, convenient, and easy to get.  So that's 1.5" on each side, for 3" total.  I wanted to use 1x5 for the stiles, which is about 4 1/2" each, less about 3/8 for each groove.  Assuming two stiles, two legs, and six grooves (two per stile, one per leg), that's (very) roughly 2 x (1") + 2 x (3 3/4") = 8 1/2".  It turns out that two 1x10 panels and one 1x8 panel brought it up to about 32", which was right where I wanted it.  Each panel was rabbeted 1/4" in from the edge to fit in groves in the frame.

The sides I ended up doing as flat panels, which I now sort of regret:  I'm pretty sure the panel to leg joint is going to be the weakest point in the whole chest.

The lids are groove-in-groove.  I would have like to have thicker (or at least stronger) lumber for that, but 1x was what I had easy (and cheap) access to.  Doing it again I might buy more expensive materials, since I'm not thrilled with the final strength.  The lid wound up being (I think) 1x6 frame and 1x12 for the panel. I build the lid, then sized the side panels to that.  That meant two not very visible rip cuts, rather than one very visible rip.

Construction

This was the largest "finished furniture" project I've done.  My bench is larger (although not by much!)

In general construction was very simple, since everything except the ends and bottoms were frame in panel, and the bottom was just shiplapped planks.  My combination plane got a good workout on this one, and so did my rabbet plane!  I was quite pleased with how well both worked on endgrain, and in pine.  There was a little bit of spelching (pieces breaking off) at the end of the end grain cuts, but not enough to be a problem.

This photo shows work on end grain:  lots of dust and fine particles, no shavings.  In the bottom left you can just see some of the long curls I got going with the grain.

To be honest, the larger part of the time spent once I finalized the design was just production line work:  Cut all the rails.  Cut all the stiles.  Cut all the panels.  Cut all the legs.  Mark all the legs for mortises.  Mark all the rails for mortises and tenons.  Mark all the stiles for tenons.  Groove everything.  Mortise everything.  Cut all the tenons.

Digression:  On why tools should always be put away

Near the middle of the mortising process, I made my first massive woodworking mistake:  I put a chisel down on the bench, rather than in the rack.  A couple of minutes later, I put a screwdriver down next to it after adjusting the plow plane, and went back to work.  When I saw the screwdriver rolling off the bench, I grabbed for it without looking... and found out it was the chisel.  Four stitches later, I was left contemplating the pile of boards I had yet to mortise, and the fact that I couldn't really use my left hand for any of it.  Finally, I gave in and bought a mortising machine... and the chisel broke partway through the first mortise.  I ended up just waiting for the stitches to come out and doing the rest by hand anyway.

Back to work!

Doing things production line style means a few things.  I was able to gang-cut a lot of the pieces, which made life easier.  It also ensured that, whether or not anything actually matched my planned measurements, everything was the same, which was the most critical part.  I think I ended up cutting the rails too short, which meant a few strokes of the plane to narrow down the outer panels, but it really didn't matter.  Since everything was the same, the chests still came out square.  It also meant that I was able to do things in batches, which worked out well time-wise.

That's the piled up pieces, with all of the frame pieces cut and grooved, waiting for me to cut tenons on the stiles.If you're wondering why there are an odd number of narrow panels over on the left, it's because I wasn't sure how I wanted to shape them other than the rabbet, so I cut a bunch of extras.

Once I finished with the shaping, it was time for the first test fit!

I was pretty pleased at this point.  The frame slipped a little before I took this photo, but I was able to get the top rail almost flush, and plane to fit after it was assembled.  I test fit all four assemblies, and labeled them to be sure I could get them back together:

Then it was matter of break it down, fit it on the dining table (on top of cardboard, to protect the table), and start painting!

Painting

That's almost the entire chest (one panel is missing, although I don't recall why, and the end panels were still being glued) laid out and painted.  I chose Old Fashioned Milk Paint for two reasons.  First, it doesn't smell the way latex paint does, and we were running very close to departure time, where we'd need to spend a minimum of two very long days in the car with these chests.  Second, it's pretty much non-toxic, and these chests are intended for small children.  You can bet they're going to lick or eat some of the paint sooner or later, and I figured it would be nice if that didn't poison them or something.

We (that would be me and my wonderful partner, M, who kindly agreed to help with the painting.  She deserves a lot of the credit for this actually being painted before we left!) did three coats, and wound up loving the colors.  The paint was easy to work with, went on smoothly, and looked terrible for the first coat.  After that it got better pretty quickly.  Sanding between coats was with brown paper bags, torn into rough squares.  It worked quickly, and we never sanded through the current coat.

The final assembly

Everything was painted, and the clock was running down on departure time.  We were driving to Indianapolis from Massachusetts, so whatever was done had to have time for the glue to cure before we left.

 Interestingly, the glue up I was most worried about, the side panels, was the easiest.  I decided to use liquid hide glue on this project, largely because it's reversible and I expect these to take a lot of abuse and, potentially, damage.  I decided to try a rub joint:  I knew the two boards matched very closely, and I figured it couldn't do any harm to try.  The big advantage of a rub joint is that it doesn't really need to be clamped:  the hide glue holds it in place.  I knew it was risky trying it with liquid (rather than hot) hide glue, but I tried it anyway, and I'm really glad I did.  It worked beautifully, better than any other long-grain joint I've glued.

I glued up both fronts, both backs, and both lids, along with the side panels, before leaving.  I got one full assembly done (except for hinges, which I picked up along the way) at home, and then was out of time.  I nailed and glued rails all the way around the bottom before gluing up, and was able to fit the bottom as well.  As it turned out, it was just as well I only had one of them fully assembled:  fitting a second into the car would have been something of a challenge!  Finally, in Indianapolis, I was able to glue the second chest together, fit the hinges, and put some toys in them for Christmas morning.

The unpainted strip just below the lid is a spacer:  I mounted the hinges so that the barrel makes a spacer, and fit a wooden strip along the front to match.  That way there's an air gap almost all the way around, and the lid and hinges still feel solid and secure.  When the twins are old enough that they don't need that anymore, I'll likely re-mount the hinges and remove the front spacer.

Conclusion

I'm extremely pleased with how these came out.  There are things I would do differently (hardwood for the lid, frame and panel for the sides, not cutting myself with a chisel...), but in the end the product looks good and feels solid.  Once the bottom planks were in and the end panels nailed in place, they show no tendency to rack, even empty.  Once they're full they should be even more stable.

All in all, a fob fairly well done.

OK, I might add ONE more machine to my shop...

A week ago today I received an important reminder about shop safety.

You see, I was working on cutting some mortises, and had paused to flick out some chips, which I do with a screwdriver.  I put the screwdriver down, picked up my mallet, and noticed, out of the corner of my eye, that the screwdriver was rolling off the bench.  I grabbed it... and discovered it was actually the chisel.

Fortunately, this was a fairly cheap lesson:  It needed four stitches, but only did real damage to skin, so there shouldn't be any long-term damage except the scar, which will probably be fairly significant.

There are two important lessons here:

1) If something is rolling off your bench, DON'T TRY TO CATCH IT!

2) There's a tool rack on my bench.  This is pretty much exactly why it's there.

Hopefully I'll learn from these, and in the meantime I'm going to have to find a different way to cut mortises.

A Desk for a Modern Campaign

I haven't written here much recently, and I may not for the near future.  I'm in the middle of a couple of projects I can't talk about until January (or at least the end of December), so you'll likely mostly get theoretical discussions for now, and maybe a couple of tool and book reviews.  This will be the first entry I write as a design notebook entry:  when I was writing software, this was the sort of writeup I did before starting.

Background and Purpose

I've been thinking for a while that I need a new desk.  Up until a couple weeks ago I was using my kitchen table, which meant it was usually too cluttered to actually eat at.  A few weeks ago I picked up a desk cheap at the thrift store down the road, but I don't love it.  It's better than using the table, but not by a whole lot.  So while I won't have time to start building, it's time to start thinking and planning.

I decided quickly that I wanted a desk that could be closed.  It's going to be in a "public" part of the house, and I'd like to be able to just close it up and hide my mess.  I also knew that I wanted a writing slope, cubbies for sorting mail and documents into, and space for my laptop and, ideally, an external keyboard.  That means I'm looking for, ideally, something like an old secretary desk.

All of this, combined with having helped friends move furniture recently, got me thinking about campaign furniture.  I've always loved the style, and the ability to just strap it closed and move it as is is a big incentive.  The downside of campaign furniture is, of course, the expense of building it.  Last night, though, I came to an important realization:  furniture designs change over time to fit new requirements.

Requirements

So:  what are the requirements of a modern piece of campaign furniture?  I'm going to assume moving a couple of times a year;  say, something a college student might need, or someone who moves north in the summer and south in the winter.

1) It's more likely to be moved by minivan than by mule, and up staircases rather than mountains, so while it should still be solid, it doesn't need to be quite as bombproof as an original piece.

2) Humidity may still be an issue, but not to the point of rotting the wood, so teak or mahogany aren't really necessary.  The same goes for insects:  if bugs are eating your desk, they're likely also eating your house, so you've got bigger things to worry about.

3) Weight matters.  Much like a tool chest, we want the majority of the weight to be in the contents, not the box itself.

4) Getting around tight corners and up narrow staircases is an issue.  I know from experience that something 30" wide by about 20" deep can be worked around almost any odd corner, but things that are longer can sometimes be a challenge.  Figure 40" in length and 20" front-to-back is an absolute limitation, with smaller being better.

5) It really sucks to have a chest of drawers start opening itself halfway up a staircase, so each drawer should be able to lock (or at least latch) for transportation.

6) It needs to have space for a laptop,  keyboard, and mouse.  People who are likely to move often are less likely to have a desktop computer, so allowing space for that is probably unnecessary.  If an extra monitor is necessary, it can probably just be treated like a small television and left on top of the desk.

6) More and more people like standing desks, so it should end up reasonably tall.  I use a standing desk, and I find I like a keyboard to be at about 45" from the floor and my monitor to start about 10-15" higher, depending on the size of the monitor.

7) At least one lower drawer should be large enough to store hanging files:  treating it as a lateral file is probably most sensible, which means the inside dimension of the drawer needs to be at least 13" front to back.  Adding space for the drawer face and the cabinet back means a total depth of at least, say, 15".

Design Considerations

Since weight matters, I'd like to split something that tall into three sections, rather than two:  it'll make it much easier to carry, especially if lower drawers are used for storing file folders or something like that.  So:  figure two bottom sections totaling about 40-43",  with the top section a little shorter than either of the other two.  That sounds like two sections of 20" each, and one of maybe 15".  Add some low feet to the bottom section, and the bottom two sections will run up a bit further, bringing that total to around 44", give or take.  That sounds like a top section of 15" (external size) will be about right.  So now we know two sets of external dimensions:  we have a 15" minimum depth, and two of the sections will be 20" high, while the third is 15" high.

For reduced weight, let's go with stained pine for a material.  Getting 15" wide pine should be relatively inexpensive, it's easy to work with, and it's light.  We have a winner!  Walnut or oak would be more historically accurate, and stronger, but also more expensive and heavier.  Depending on my budget when I actually build it, I might go with one of those, but pine is more likely.  While the traditional thickness would be about an inch, 3/4" should be more than strong enough.

File drawers are usually about 12-13" deep, and should go on the bottom.  Given that, I'd say the right configuration is:

• Bottom Case:  20" high.  12.5" drawer on the bottom, for files, and the remainder of the space taken up with a single shallower drawer.
• Middle Case:  20" high.  A single full-width drawer below, and two or three narrower drawers above.  Alternatively, a file drawer below and two or three shallower drawers above.
• Top Case: 15" high.  The full space is used as a secretary, with a slot for a keyboard and mouse at the bottom, space for a laptop just above them, and drawers and cubbies for paperwork and desk supplies scattered through the space.  A pass-through at the back for bringing power in and data cables (like an HDMI cable) out would be necessary.  A slide-out writing slope somewhere in the middle would also be nice.

For feet, I'd probably go with something removable, either turned feet or a bracket foot that clips or screws in easily.  They might or might not be removed for transport, but it would be nice to have the option.

Especially with a weaker wood (like pine), joints are critical.  The traditional half-blind dovetails should work fine, although through dovetails might be stronger.  Alternatively, rebates with brass screws would work just fine.  Brass reinforcement will do its job at the corners, and looks fantastic, so it gets to stay.

Conclusion

At this point, the design is basically done:  it's a three-component unit, with a file drawer at the bottom.  It's made of 3/4" pine, probably stained dark, and reinforced at the corners and some edges with brass.  It has one or two file drawers, along with some other storage, and stands about 58" high overall, and 15" deep front to back.  Pretty much the only variables turn out to be the configuration of the desk section, and how wide it is.  I'd be inclined to go about 36", because I know that will fit in the space I have.  Wider would be fine, narrower would be OK up to a point.  I wouldn't make it less than 30" side to side, because I think it would start looking less like campaign furniture and more like someone went overboard with a chimney cupboard.

Working With The Tools of my Fathers

I visited my uncle and aunt this weekend, and came away with treasure, along with the pleasure of seeing them again.  I'm the only one of my generation, as far as I can tell, with an interest in old tools.  Perhaps the others are wiser than me, or perhaps they just have different hobbies.

My uncle has been slowly sorting through things from my grandfather's basement, and sent me home with a collection of tools that were used -- or at least owned -- by my grandfather.  In looking through them after getting home, I realized how much has come down to me, both from my grandfather and from my father.

Almost all of my planes are now inherited.  There's a 24" Siegley jointer, which was my father's, along with a pair of block planes he bought over the years.  All three have some quirks, particularly the Siegley, but all three work well.  There's also a pair of Stanley smoothing planes (a #3 and a #4), a pair of rabbet planes (a wooden one with an angled iron, and a Stanley #78), and an oddity I'm not quite sure how to identify.  (That would be the one between the smoothing planes and block planes.)

The handsaw behind the jointer belonged to my grandfather, and one of my best carpentry saws, a Craftsman crosscut saw, came from my father.

A few tool boxes now in my possession were my grandfather's, along with a tool chest I'm itching to start restoring.

So what difference does it make?  Is there really a difference in using old family tools?  In one way, no.  Those Stanley planes don't work any better than anyone else's, or than one I bought on eBay.  In another way, though, they do make a difference.  One of the things that's lacking in the modern world is continuity, and a visible link between the past and the future.  Each time I pick up that #3 and start smoothing a board, I remember my grandfather, and think about who might come after me.

A Traveling Chest - early thoughts

I love my Dutch-style chest, but it's not actually very portable.  I mean, yes, I can lift and move it with some help, but it's not "toss it in the car the morning of a trip" portable.

So I've been thinking about it, and I've decided to make a pair of devices to solve the problem.  One, which I'll build later, is a "milkman's bench", from the plans in Popular Woodworking a while ago (June 2013, according to the internet).  The first project is a small tool chest.

I'm planning to base it on a Japanese toolbox design, with a few modifications.  There's a sample of the design here.  I've seen a few variations, and my intent is to borrow a few of them.  While the standard design has no dividers, I'm considering adding one, to separate saws from everything else.  I'm also planning to set up the top so that I can set it on a bench or tabletop and use it as a bench hook and shooting board;  that will probably necessitate replacing it periodically, but that's OK.  The idea is quick and inexpensive.  To be honest, I expect nails to cost more than everything else put together, since I'd like to do square nails, and clench them in some spots.

For tools, I'm going to try to figure out a really minimal set.  Here's what I'm thinking at the moment.

1. Saws.  My Shark Ryoba should handle the majority of chores, being cross or rip cuts in more or less any wood.  I'm also planning on a coping saw, since curves aren't really practical with the Ryoba.  I'm torn on the Veritas Carcase Saw;  it's tremendously useful, but I'm not convinced it's worth the weight.
2. Chisels.  I'm planning on 1/4, 1/2, and 1" chisels.  They should cover just about any need I have.  These will need a tool roll, but that's OK.
3. A hammer and a mallet.  My mallet at the moment is a cheap Harbor Freight panel beating mallet, and it works great.  The hammer will drive nails, and the mallet will adjust planes, drive chisels, and knock things together when I'm doing glueups.
4. Brace and bits.  I'm a little bit torn on this.  They add a LOT of weight, but they're really the best option for making holes bigger than about 1/4".  Probably they'll go in.
5. Hand drill and bits.  This might end up being my full roll of bits, but more likely I'll buy a small box of common bits, and call it good.
6. Gimlets.  They weigh practically nothing, and they're the best tool I've ever found for starting screws.  Done.
7. Planes.  I think I'll have a #5, #3, and the wooden shoulder plane in my regular kit.  That covers stock removal, jointing, smoothing, and rabbets, which is most of what I'll need.  I'll likely also toss a Veritas medium router plane in, because there are some things you just can't easily do otherwise.
8. My shop apron.  The pockets of the shop apron hold:  a tape measure, a six inch combination square, a marking knife, a mechanical pencil, a folding 12 rule, and a very small six inch rule, which is great for checking mortise depths and things like that.
9. Odds and ends.  The finest plate from my DMT set, a block of paraffin wax, a strop, scrapers, and stuff like that.  Probably a 16" rule, but maybe not.  Likely a bottle each of hide glue and Titebond 3.  At least one marking gauge.  Maybe a spokeshave, but maybe not.  Certainly a four-way rasp/file.

The real question in my mind is how much this is all going to weigh.  I'll probably drop it all in a bag or a bucket before starting to build, in case I wind up needing to slim it down further.  I could probably replace the #3 plane with a coffin plane, which would leave me the value but drop the weight some.


So what do I expect to be able to do with this?  Basically anything.  The ryoba and chisels mean I can cut dovetails.  Adding the carcase saw would mean I can suddenly cut dados, open or stopped, and grooves, and clean them with the router plane, which can also do things like hinge or lock mortises  The shoulder plane can cut rabbets.  Between the brace, hand drill, and gimlets, I can put a hole of any size in pretty much any wood.  With the coping saw, chisels, and a rasp I should be able to make curves of almost any radius, either inside or outside.

Some things will be difficult.  I wouldn't want to make a raised panel with this set, or cut grooves in anything very large.  I'm considering ordering the Mujingfang plow plane:  If it's decent, I might keep it for this chest, as a light-weight option.  If I could manage to replace all of the planes with wood, that would lighten it up considerably, leaving the brace as the single heaviest item.

In any case, it should prove interesting!