Descending Ashtray

I used to love the comics when I was a kid. The Far Side and Calvin and Hobbes were far and away the best ones in my local paper. Later entries into my world included Fox Trot and Non Sequitur (and much later Don Hertzfeldt), but I never forgot my first loves.

It’s been snowing in Portland the last few days, which reminded me of the Calvin strips that were among my favorites - when Calvin would make snowmen … Not the happy, cute kind, with a button nose and a corncob pipe, but the kind of snowman every 10 year old dreams of making - the kind sure to piss off your parents.

So this year, rather than carve yet another Santa for my grandmother, I decided to do something a little different. Grandma was known for her yearly calendar gift, and mine was always Calvin & Hobbes (which she is a fan of, too). So this year’s Christmas carving is a dual salute: to Bill Watterson, the strip’s creator, and Grandma Selden, its avid promoter.

Merry Christmas, everyone.

I can’t help it. Cutting boards are just fun to make. Most everyone on my gift list has already received a cutting board from me in recent memory, but I enjoy making them. It’s also a really good way to reduce the pile of “too nice to throw away” offcuts, and I’ve got the process pretty well dialed in now (see also my post on how to do end-grain cutting boards):

1. Cut scraps to consistent length. This time I did two lengths - about 18 inches long, and about 12 inches long. This gave me two sizes of cutting boards.
2. Plane the scraps on both sides to make sure they’re all parallel and smooth for gluing.
3. Lay out the boards. For the bigger boards, I went with symmetrical layouts, but for the smaller ones, I did some asymmetrical layouts.
4. Glue! I put a bead of glue on one side of the board, then spread it with a disposable brush. Then I put another piece on top of it, and repeat until the board’s all glued up
5. Apply clamps. Again, you can never have too many. I’ve got ~10 Jorgensen F-clamps, and I usually put 4 per big board, and 3 per small one, which limits my batch size to about 3 boards/day. In weather below 50, it’s a good idea to bring them inside if your workspace is unheated, as the glue won’t set below that temp.
6. Once the glue’s dry, I plane the whole board smooth on both sides to clean up all the drips and squeeze-out. Works great.
7. Square up the ends on the table saw using a crosscut sled or miter gauge.
8. Round over all the edges and corners with a roundover bit in your router (mine is a Bosch 1617 mounted under my table saw
9. Finally, I sand both sides to 220 or so and add a few coats of mineral oil to finish.
10. Pass ‘em out!

The woods I used this year are Birch, Maple, Doug Fir, Walnut, Zebrawood, Oak, Padauk (the red wood) Cherry and some variety of faux Mahogany.

I first saw the SawStop table saw a few years ago. Their early demo videos showcased its amazing safety techology that allows the SawStop saw to stop the blade’s spinning and drop down through the table when it encounters anything meat-like (i.e. your finger!). You keep your finger for the price of a saw blade, which seems like a pretty good trade to me.

Their first demo videos showed a hot dog stopping the blade, which was pretty cool, if a little cartoony. Now, the inventor has a new video showing up on YouTube in which he uses his finger to demo the tech. That’s faith.

Well, it may not work for you, but it worked for us. Current Portland Building Code requires that stairs must be a minimum of 9 inches deep (run) and a maximum of 8 inches high (rise). Remodels like ours must also conform to this standard, unless they include an “Existing stairway that leads to existing finished living space that was created with a building permit (Verify prior permits at the Development Services Center).”

That last part is key. Because while our attic space was definitely liveable before we pulled down the vintage paneling, its stairs are more definitely non-conforming. Our run is anywhere from 8.25 to 8.5 inches, with an 8 inch rise, and a barely-noticeable nosing. This may not seem like much of a difference, but our estimates to bring the stairs into conformance started at a cool 10K, with structural changes that might have required re-designing the kitchen, attic stairs … you’ll pardon the pun if I call it a slippery slope.

But, we lucked out big time when we went down to the building office for the first time. You see, there was an existing building permit on file. A plumbing permit, anyway. (From 1927, even though we’d been told our house was built in 1928!). And if I may draw your attention to the line reading “Stories and Class of building,” you’ll see the magic words:

“new, fr. 1 1/2 sty dwg.”

Apparently, that’s old school builder-speak for “new one and a half story dwelling.” The second floor was intended as-built for living space, and its stairs for daily use. Hence, we are grandfathered in, by a probably now great-grandfather of a plumber working for Standard Plumbing and Heating Company in 1927. They’re still in business today, and now, so are we.

Whew, it’s been a LONG time since I’ve last posted, and to you, dear reader, I apologize. I’ve embarked on adventure that has been taking up a lot of my time, and I’m not talking about my homebrewing hobby …

Sarah and I have begun remodeling our attic. It all began with some plans (with some help from my friend and contractor Andrew Young), which led to a building permit, which led to the purchase of a sawzall, which led to … me neglecting this blog. But let’s move on, shall we?

The Plans

We are fortunate enough to have a full-size attic - the plumbing permit for our house in 1927 listed it as 1 1/2 stories (saving us about $10,000, a story which I’ll tell another day) and we’re planning on converting the existing space (right) to a master bedroom and bath, which will up our home’s totals to 3 bedrooms, 2 baths, and about 1500 square feet of living space. Here are the plans for what the new space should look like:

The Demo

I have always heard that demolition is the best part of a project, and I have to say, it has been fun, if a bit sweaty and dusty. But … we’re almost done. Most of the attic’s walls and ceiling were covered in some vintage wood paneling whose surface concealed some very old insulation. When you pulled down the paneling, the insulation and miscellaneous roof debris came with it, coating my head with asphalt, roofing nails and the occasional abandoned wasp nest. Good times. Next, I’ll regale you with stories of chimney removal. Really good times!

When Sarah and I first moved to Portland, we had an apartment on SE Belmont. It was a great location, and had a great backyard for parties, with a raspberry bush within arm’s length of the picnic table I built (my first real woodworking project, and one that is still doing good service today).

One year, it occurred to us to have an outdoor party right around horse-racing season, and with the Belmont Stakes coming up, it seemed a natural fit to call our BBQ the “Belmont Steaks.”

A few days before that first party, I was at Music Millenium on Burnside, and saw some little toys on the counter near the register, a bucket full of “ramp walkers” for a couple bucks apiece. There were horses, cows and pigs that would all “walk” down an incline … it seemed only natural to race them, and with the party coming up … Racing Cows were born. I built a simple ramp with a starting gate, and much fun was had (the pitchers of mint juleps didn’t hurt, either).

The cows, however, were lost to history, but the horse racing party lived on in our new place, modified to a Kentucky Derby celebration since we were no longer on Belmont Street.

Earlier this week, I found the cows again with some slick Google sleuthing. They’re made by a company called Rocket USA, and 12 new racing cows arrived yesterday morning. They were all the same color, so I ended up re-painting most of them.

To re-start the tradition, I also felt the cows needed a little more than just a piece of plywood and a starting gate, so yesterday I souped up the old track. I give you … “Plywood Downs.” Place your bets.