Archive for the ‘Furniture’ Category

Mission Endtable

Wednesday, December 5th, 2018

An old friend of mine got married a while ago, to a woman of discerning taste and an enthusiasm for Arts and Crafts style. There was nothing for it but for Jeff  (another friend of mine), and I to make the two of them an endtable as a wedding gift. I did the construction, and Jeff did the finishing. This worked out to advantage, since he’s better at finishing and detail work than I. Because he, and not I, applied the final polish, you can see the wall reflected from the tabletop in the wall below.

(Sorry about the poor picture; we were kind of in a hurry to get to the wedding.)

Amusingly, the wedding was at the Roycroft Inn, set in the old hub of the Roycroft Arts and Crafts community, and the happy couple overnighted there, opening their gifts that night. Evidently there was some apprehension that they would have trouble carrying the table out the next day, given its resemblance to the rest of the Roycroft’s oeuvre. Incidentally, the Roycroft is quite nice and redolent of craftsmanship.

Anyhow, the table is plainsawn red oak, not quartersawn white, and it’s stained rather than ammonia fumed, but none of that matters. This is one of my favorite projects, since I knew that the couple would like it, and it turned out really nicely thanks to the finish applied by Jeff.

I’d like to try ammonia fuming, but evidently it’s not easy to find high-test ammonia these days, and the weaksauce household stuff is not at all potent enough.

Small Toybox

Wednesday, November 28th, 2018

One of my coworkers and his wife recently had their first child. I like the guy, and am quite happy for them; however, since I’m an emotionally inarticulate engineer (sort of), I communicated my happiness by making their daughter a toybox.

As is usual with a largely unplanned project, the result was more complicated than I had intended, to hide mistakes made in the process. That nice band of walnut hides some issues with the dado holding the bottom of the box in. The vertical reinforcements at the corner hide unaesthetic box joints. I should really bite the bullet and buy a metal box joint jig. Every time I cut them I butcher a lot of wood, and spend about three times longer than I expect.

The biggest issue I had was that I originally cut the lid with pronounced bevel cuts along the top edge. Unfortunately, this, combined with the other dimensions of the toybox, made the thing look exactly like a child’s coffin, which did not exactly reflect what I was trying to do here, to say the least. Fortunately, the scraps from a previous project let me replace the unusable lid without a run to the store.

(For sale, child’s coffin lid. Never used, per Hemingway).

Small pine toybox

It’s occasionally fun to work with clear pine. It works so quickly; it would be “easy mode” if it weren’t that it also dents so easily. This gives character to kids’ furniture, but I wouldn’t want to make a formal endtable out of the stuff. Any sort of stain for it is a potential blotching disaster, too.

Harp desk

Tuesday, March 30th, 2010
Does this look familiar?

Does this look familiar?

Does the surface in the above picture look familiar?  What happened to that desk, anyway?

harp-desk-frontIt’s basically done.  It needs sealing, but that’s all I’m going to do.  Well, and a little stain touch-up here and there.  But that’s all, really.   Really.

I realized that I would never finish if I wanted it perfect, so I decided to treat it as a prototype.  As everyone knows, one expects problems with prototypes.  This mindset helped me to finally put it together instead of fiddling indefinitely with dowels, sandpaper, and a ruler.

Fit and finish is mediocre, and I really need to learn to round off edges more than I did here.  However, the basic structure is stronger than I had thought it might be, and it looks pretty good from 4 feet away.


Pay no attention to the light socket.

There is a little illusion in the shape; the feet are actually 3/4 as long as the desk is deep.  The shape makes them look as if they are shorter.


Aviating furniture: it's the future!

I believe that this is the first piece of furniture that I’ve made from scratch (and actually completed).  I certainly learned a lot.   Were I to make another, I would change some things in the design to make it more durable, as well as changing some geometry to hide imperfections better.  Notably, I would change the front edge of the “wings” so that they differ more from the front profile of the legs. With the available tools, it was difficult to get them to match.  I would also use straight border pieces for the top, rather than the bevels.  The corners do not repay close inspection.

One oddity that came to light:

harp-desk-brassThat piece of brass rod is the only metal in the desk.  I put it there to bridge the gap between the strip veneer that covers the bottom edge of the modesty panel. (Really.  That’s what it is called).  Unfortunately, under some light, the shiny end of the brass is surprisingly visible, and draws attention away from the top of the desk.  I’ve since filed it at an angle to reflect light downward.

One last lesson, evidently.  I need to learn to take better photographs.

Corner chair

Sunday, March 28th, 2010

This chair hails from one of my favorite salvage grounds: the storage complex.  People move out and throw away furniture that fails to pass the “effort required to load it on the truck” test.  Regrettably, the storage complex I used has stopped allowing people to discard their furniture, and so this particular well has gone dry.

Before it did, however, I pulled an odd chair and small table from the heap.  I’m not sure how old the chair is, though the black and white color scheme narrows things down a bit.  Black frame, white vinyl upholstery.  Sounds early 80s to me, although I was not well-sited to notice prevailing trends at the time.  The oddity comes from the frame design, which has a very narrow (10″) back and a light framework supporting the front of the chair.  It looks as if it was part of a dining room set.

Of course, being discarded, it had problems beyond any unfashionability, which I am not qualified to diagnose.  The vinyl was torn, and the lighter part of the frame was broken at several welds.  Oh, and it had been left in the rain.  Fortunately, the upholstery foam was synthetic and hence not immediately subject to rot, and the frame is steel.  Where there is metal, there is hope.

<several years pass>

I had a larger chair rehabilitation planned, and figured that this could prove to be useful practice, my last sewing project being a ball sewed in 8th grade “home economics” class.  I decided that my goal for the reupholstering of the chair was to avoid stabbing myself with a needle.  This is, I find, often a good goal.  Joann Fabrics yielded some good fake leather vinyl in the popular “banker’s green”.

When looking for new accommodations, I met a fellow who was trying to start a metalworking business.  I paid him to re-weld the frame, which fortunately was steel rather than aluminum (requiring TIG welding, which he could not do at the time).  This job was almost trivial for him, evidently.  It took him longer to find some bolts to hold it in place than it did to weld it and grind the slag off.  (As a note, it has been my experience that metalworking and fabrication businesses are generally not averse toward picking up half an hour’s labor time or so doing projects like this.)

Seat frame having finished the Tour de my car’s trunk, I needed to replace the upholstery.  The vinyl on the chair was cheap, torn, and dirty.  The foam, however, was fine, as were the wood backings for both the seat and back.  After 10 minutes with a flathead screwdriver and a set of pliers, the staples were removed.  I get the sense that this chair was not a high-buck item:

Yes, it is not quite symmetrical

Yes, it is not quite symmetrical

The minor water damage is evident.

The seatback:


One benefit to repairing things, rather than building them from scratch, is that disassembly yields information about how things should be put back together.  In this case, I was happy to realize that I could use the brain surgeon’s friend:



For the seatback, I could exclusively use what I think of as kinetic fasteners (staples and tacks).  Looming large in my mind, however,  was the knowledge that I would need to sew the corners together for the seat.  As previously noted, this is not something I am well-practiced at.  Trying to resist my usual impetuous modus operandi, I carefully thought about how to cut and sew the corners of the seat cushion.  Readers may be astonished to know that I even sewed together a few practice corners.  Measuring for the seat cushion took some time as I kept second-guessing myself.


After thinking about it, I used the seat’s wood backing as a template, and cut enough vinyl to wrap the top and sides of it.



I then realized that I had failed to take into account the depth of the foam; fortunately, I had presciently purchased more vinyl than I thought I needed.  Correctly sized piece of vinyl in hand, I tried to remember my 8th grade lessons.  All I could remember from that class was that you sew things inside out so as to keep the seams inside, and that peanut butter and chocolate taste good together.


The actual sewing proved anticlimactic, and, as a bonus, I did not stab myself.  At least not enough to draw blood.  I put the seat foam on top of the fabric, the seat board on top of that, and my knee on top of the board, to compress the foam enough to staple the fabric to the underside of the seat.  While difficult to photographically document, this worked well, especially when I started to cut notches in between the staples to stop the fabric from bunching up.


By comparison, the seatback was an exercise in patience rather than in mental work.  The structure of the frame hid the sides and ends of the board, so I could be less careful and still get away with it.


I eventually cut notches (“darts” in textile parlance) between the staples to avoid the wavy behaviour you see above.  The back of the seatback is visible through the frame, so I ended up using upholstery tacks to fit a panel of vinyl down the back.tacked-back

I replaced the black screws with brass for that classy look.  (It seems to me that the word “classy” does not itself sound classy.  Perhaps I should reconsider my use of it.)

As is evident in the above picture, the frame needs paint.  This is waiting on better weather.  Even without the paint, the chair looks pretty good, and is surprisingly comfortable, as the pad on the back fits neatly between one’s shoulder blades.


(Yes, the table on the right is the one salvaged alongside the chair.  Their proximity may be partially the result of  further anthropomorphization, I fear.)


Sunday, March 14th, 2010

I found this:


Not very useful by itself.  I think it used to have a glass top, probably with a plant sitting on top.  It has a little surface rust from sitting outside.

I also had this:


Both the table’s top and the marble tile have the same dimensions.



The corner is rounded on the wire frame to the point that it will not accept the tile.

I thought about using a jigsaw with a tile-cutting blade to nip the marble corners at 45 degrees.  The oft-used expedient of “standing for a long time in front of the tools at the hardware store” resulted in a  helpful clerk informing me that this was probably not a good idea due to the relative softness of the marble when compared with tile.  I have no idea if he is right, but the effectiveness of his suggestion of sanding the marble backs up his aversion to the tile blade.  I hadn’t realized that marble is relatively soft, but recalling my “earth science” classes, it makes sense that the metamorphic marble would be less tough than, say, igneous granite.

Sanding works:


Rough on the sandpaper, though.


(To be fair, I used a file to knock down some high points on the table frame.)

Come better weather, I’ll repaint the frame, but for now I have the little table by my front door, waiting for my keys.  Perhaps I need a small silver plate for calling cards.