Exploded views of the Cold Frame

Exploded Frame

Exploded Light

The exploded views above give a good idea for just how simple the Cold Frame design is. The 2 x 2 strips at the bottom of the frame are sacrificial parts that can be replaced when the rot gets too bad.

The hardest part of this project is making the sloped sides and cutting the notches for the central brace. The notches really should have a sloped bottom to match that of the frame sides. I achieved this on my frame by marking 1 1/2" down on the top side and 1 5/8" down on the bottom side of each support. I cut to the lines with a hand saw (so the bottom of the kerf was sloped) and chiseled out the waste between the two. For some reason, on both frames the slot on the front of the frame was perfect, but the slot on the back of the frame had side-to-side slop. I think I still need practice cutting to a line, especially with a cross-cut saw.

This weekend I will start preparing the parts for the lights. This should be fairly simple: I need to route 1/4 inch slots in the sides, create the stops (the little blocks that hold the glass in), and cut the frame parts to length. If I have time left over, I'll also make the notched sticks that allow propping of the lights.

I chose to make the lights with tempered glass, which should deliver next Friday. It is very expensive: $88.62 per pane of tempered glass. When I priced other materials, I found that either Plexiglas or regular glass was 25% less expensive, and Polycarbonate was 25% more expensive: $101.28 per pane. Wow!

I hope this frame will still be working in 20 years: that might make the investment of time and materials worthwhile. The experience of making it? Priceless.

Compost Bins Completed

At the beginning of the summer I designed two possible compost bins based on designs in the book "Let it Rot". Last weekend I finally finished the one I chose to complete (the model with boars on four sides, which won on the merits of hiding the pile from our neighbors).

This is what we had before:

This is what we have now:

There are a lot of nuts and bolts in this beast:

And especially in the middle posts:

The bins look great and are functional, but given the choice to start over I would definitely go with the other design. All the hardware on this design was very expensive, as was the 1 x 6 lumber. The other design would have been easily as functional and because the floor and three sides are made with 2 x materials and cheaper connectors it would have been much less expensive and easier to construct.

But this design taught me quite a bit: I a built a jig for drilling the holes in the posts an equal distance apart, that worked perfectly except that I measured incorrectly and had the holes about 1/8" further apart than on the slats. It wasn't so much of a problem with the outer sides, where the bolts go through one post and one slat, but it was impossible to get through two posts and one slat. I ended up bolting through one hole and drilling out the second hole for each slat once the sides were mostly assembled. Also, did I mention that there are a LOT of nuts, bolts, and washers? And on the center side I was so distracted by the puzzle of getting the bolts in, that I installed the two back posts upside down. So I was able to take out and reinstall those 12 bolts twice. Fun.

Compost Bin Design Session

Today I assembled two thoughts for compost bins:

The first is built on a foundation of cinder blocks and has hardware cloth on three sides for ventilation. The fronts are prevented from spreading by a 2x4 attached across the front.

The second is modeled on a traditional New Zealand Box design that I found in the book "Let it Rot". The posts are driven directly into the ground and the slats on three sides are attached to the posts with half inch gaps between them for ventilation. Across the top is a "spreader bar" that prevents the tops from bulging out under the weight of compost. Both have slats that can be slid in at the front to build a taller pile that doesn't fall out.

We'll probably build the second one, because it hides the contents from the neighbors—somehow eggshells and vegetable scraps don't inspire confidence in the modern world, and we've removed many of the bushes that once obscured the compost heap from public viewing.

Why I Need to Build a New Storm Window

The old storm window did its job for well over 13 years, but it had seen better days. If you look carefully, you can see some of the old felt weatherstrip hanging down behind the glass. I hope the new storm will look very similar, but much less rotten, and with all the weatherstrip still attached.

I took the window down soon after taking that picture. Here's a look at one of the joints once the window was in the shop:

Obviously it needed repair or replacement. Still, I wish I had been so curious about the strength of that joint. Two seconds later, having gently pried it apart with my fingers, it looked like this:

So now you know why I'm desperately working to finish the replacement storm. My "B" plan of using the old window no longer exists, and the weather is getting cold enough that water is puddling on the inside of the leaded glass and cold air radiates from it, as though it were an air conditioner. Happily, I'll be able to re-use the glass, and I'm not worrying that I might break it getting it out of the old window.

So far, the stock has been identified, and ripped to width, but I've run into some challenges, including the fact that the planer I inherited is at least temporarily unable to adjust due, I think, to rust. I'm going to have to surface the stock by hand, which means they probably won't be exactly the same width, which means I have to be more careful than I had planned with how I cut the tenons and saddles for the joints. I think I've figured it out, though, and if it works I'll post about it. And if it doesn't work... I'll still post about it.

Storm Window Design

More pictures, fewer words. Here's the plan for the first storm window. Dimensions will be different, but construction will be the same:

This started as a half-lap joint, but became a bridle joint to improve the mechanical joint. The trimming moldings are intended to reduce the chance of moisture getting into the joint.

Roman Tools for Building Catapults

Watching the crew build the full-sized replica of a Roman catapult (in the video embedded in my last post) I was struck by a number of things the Romans did not have when they created these monstrous machines: they did not have fork lifts, chainsaws, power drills, circular saws, cranes, and other powered machinery. But even in those ancient times they had almost all of the hand-powered hand tools that modern woodworker has, and most of these we would recognize.

According to Roman Woodworking, the book I mentioned in a prior post, a woodworker in those times would have had a full compliment of tools for building in wood. I was surprised to see how many of these tools looked essentially identical to those we use today. Here's a quick list I compiled from the book:

• Workbench
• Adze
• Auger
• Chisel (both paring and mortising)
• Gouge
• Drill
• Knife
• Draw knife
  
• Spokeshave
• Lathe
• Plane
• Saw
• Wedge
• Hammer
• Mallet
• Calipers
• Dividers
• Compass
• Plumb Line
• Level
• Ruler
• Square
• Bench dog
• Clamp

In all, a fairly complete list of hand tools for building in wood. As for moving the massive timbers around and assembling the machine, they would have had to do this all the hard way—with levers, wedges, mallets, hammers, pulleys, and raw muscle. Wow.

Building a Roman Catapult

Now this is a woodworking project. Building a full-sized Roman catapult replica is so cool on so many levels.

Replacing the Front Porch Handrail

Woodworking home improvements continue at my house. Like the riser on the back porch, parts of the front porch are showing their age. The most important fix was a hand rail that was rotted enough that I could poke my finger into it almost 1/4 inch. The only thing holding it together seemed to be paint:

For a project like this, I like to be prepared before doing any demolition. I dug up an old hand rail section left over from the original porch construction and set out to make the replacement ready before touching the old rail. This let me take direct measurements using a sliding bevel, sometimes called a t-bevel:

I transferred this angle to the replacement handrail:

I measured from post to post along the bottom of the existing rail and marked the distance on the new rail, then checked the angle at the top post (the posts might not be on the same plane) and transferred that angle to the handrail at the marked distance.

After cutting the rail to length using my Thor saber saw to cut the angles, I needed to notch the underside of the rail to seat the rungs in the same method our carpenter used originally. As you can see, almost all of those hand screws I purchased a few weeks ago were used to create a router fence and clamping system that allowed this. I really do need to build a router table soon to avoid such contortions:

After testing the fit of the notch on some left over rungs, I test fit it alongside the existing handrail. Some small adjustments with a low angle block plane brought it within the range of satisfaction.

I pre-primed the handrail in the same way I did on the back porch riser. Once the primer was dry, and I had purchased galvanized finishing nails (the stainless nails I used on the riser were inappropriate for this application, and I only found that Lee Valley carries stainless finishing nails after I completed this project), I was ready to start tearing out the old rail. Originally, I thought I would be able to pound the old handrail off, slide the new riser on, and nail it in place. What was I smoking? All the old rungs came off with the handrail, and I was just lucky the bottom rail stayed in place. As a result of my delusions and accompanying poor planning, the front porch was missing a handrail for about 18 hours:

It turned out to be good that the rungs cam out, I was able to scrape off some of the old paint so they fit better into the slot. Once I started, the rail came together fairly quickly:

One error I noticed during all this: I didn't realize that hadn't taken direct measurements on all the required axes: when I installed the handrail, I found that the rails were not parralel and I should have created a trapazoidal profile across the width of the rail. Fortunately, the gaps that resulted from this mistake are unseen unless you climb into the bushes. Lesson learned, but I'm sure to learn this one again.

One of the rungs was rotted like the handrail, so I had to replace it with new material. If I had inspected more closely, I would have aimed to have this cut and primed before the day of the install:

I primed it all on the same day:

Now if it would just stop raining, I could apply a final coat of paint. Maybe next weekend...

Old Riser Removed, New Riser Installed

Yesterday I removed the rotting eyesore of a top riser and replaced it with the newly cut and primed riser replacement. The hardest part of removing the old riser was removing all the 3" air-driven wire brads that Bryan, our carpenter, put into it from all sides.

There were four nails into the end, eight into each side, four or five in the middle and three into the top edge through the stair lip. Much of the riser crumbled away from the nails, leaving them intact and unmoved.

Hear you can see the porch construction after the riser was removed and the nails pulled. When the old riser was removed, I discovered a good sized fungus growing on the back. Good thing I got to this when I did!

One trick I learned was for pounding out the long, flexible air-driven nails. They tended to bend rather than driving, but after nipping them to about half the original length, I could easily drive out the head to be pulled.

The riser was cut, then primed, then installed. This allowed me to prime all sides, including the cut edges, to protect it from the weather, and hopefully slow the rotting that lead me to this repair.

Notice that both ends were a good fit. I learned the hard way (by not doing it) that I should have shimmed in the riser like I did during the test fit. The gap at the bottom (which you'll notice was also in the original, because that stair step is slightly too tall) is not even all the way across. The good news is that no one but me will notice.

Notice the right side sits perfectly flush with the other board. When I fit the riser in, it fit perfectly flush on both sides. That demonstrated the value of marking directly from the porch. You may remember from my first blog post about replacing the riser, that after shimming it in for a test fit I marked the end from the porch, measured the width of the end board with my compass, and re-marked the line that much shorter.

If I had measured instead of taking a direct measurement, I would have marked the distance, marked and cut it square to the edge, and found angle was not actually 90 degrees. As it was, when I picked up the square to mark the line all the way across I almost marked it square anyway. Thankfully I trusted the line I took from the porch, turned the straight edge to follow the line, and cut at the angle I had scribed. One disaster averted.

You'll notice that I pounded the nails by hand, and I only used three stainless steel nails per support. This should hold just fine, and since they are ribbed and stainless, they shouldn't pull loose or rust through like some of the old ones (which were only galvanized). I hope to paint the riser this weekend and move on to replacing the front porch hand rail and an old wooden storm window.

Replacing a Rotting Stair Riser

The top riser of the back porch is rotting and needs replacing. Tonight I started that process by fitting the replacement riser.

Supplies needed:

6' length of 2x8 Pine
Shims
Drafting compass
Saber Saw or Coping Saw
Pencil

I discovered the hard way that even though Home Depot and Lowe's carry risers that are 48" long, your riser might require something longer. So, after two trips for lumber I was ready to start fitting using the 6-foot length of 2x6 pine I'd procured. I suspect that someday I will wish I had purchased poplar, but pine it will be.

The riser height was not exactly equal to the space (room for movement), so I had to shim it up into place to get a marking. Veritas has a fancy gadget, called a transfer scribe, for marking odd shaped ends, but I just used my standard compass. I set the compass to a width greater than the deepest section of the step against the house and simply dragged the tightener against the house while the pencil scribed the board.

I then cut the shape using a saber saw. I returned to the back porch and inserted the riser to see how well I had done.

The fit was good enough, so I went to the other end of the board and marked it directly from the porch. That measurement was not the correct length, because the end is capped by another board. So, with the direct scribed line, I knew I had to subtract the width of that other board. I Using the compass again, I set the compass arms to exactly the with of the end board, then used this setting to shift the mark to where my cut needed to go on my riser. I took it back to the basement and cut it square at the mark.

After tonight's work, the riser is ready to prime for painting, which I can do in the basement this weekend (even if it does rain outside, with the arrival of Tropical Storm Hannah). If all goes well I will be as happy with the fit of the new riser as I was with the old one (installed by a professional carpenter). So far, so good. Here's the before and after shots:

An Old Building Gets a New Face - Part 2

In December I noted the progress on a local historic remodel. At that time the siding was partially applied to the tower, and I said:

...much of the siding we see in this picture looks poorly applied because the visible corners aren't flush. But don't worry. When they finish the skin, the corners will be flush-cut and end caps will be installed and perfectly fitted (I hope). The slop we see in the corners will be gone, hidden by the finishing details.

On Thursday I remembered the camera and took a picture that proved the rule. All that "slop" I noted has indeed been covered by a corner end cap. I especially like the cornice details at each corner: these visually become a capital and transform the end cap into a column. The show is on.

An Old Building Gets a New Face

I've been watching work on an old building that was donated to the Holliston Historical Society. The building isn't anything fancy, but it has a tower. Not long ago the carpenters started tearing the original skin off of it, and I wanted to get a shot of the frame, but as you can see I forgot the camera for a few days too long.

Watching this wooden building be refurbished reminds me that carpentry (and furniture making) is a curious mix of macro and micro details. For example: much of the siding we see in this picture looks poorly applied because the visible corners aren't flush. But don't worry. When they finish the skin, the corners will be flush-cut and end caps will be installed and perfectly fitted (I hope). The slop we see in the corners will be gone, hidden by the finishing details.

This same principle is used in furniture: especially in factory-made and older pieces of furniture, only the parts that are seen are finished to perfection. The insides of beautiful period furniture may still have rough wood or tool marks on the bottom of the desktop or back of the drawer. It doesn't matter, because that is only the functional part of the work.

The show is what we see. Backstage the work can be much rougher.