Peter Brown's ShopTime

I sit down, and shed all reason and logic, as I open my pamphlet entitled: “So you’ve decided to do away with all that filthy productivity and join the cult.” It’s not a good sign but I decide to keep reading. I flip open the hand folded tract and see what more information it has to impart to my longing soul. “You don’t have to live the repressed life of your narrow minded generation. Open your mind and breath easy. You have begun your first step towards a life without the domineering overlord of 3 phase wiring or mindless repacking of your wearing motor bearings. Can you imagine a world without concerns of blade drift or constant mechanical tuning? If yes, then I bid you welcome to the cult. Please remove your jeans and t-shirt and pick up a linen smock and a tasteful pair of dark breeches.” It turns out, that my new hobby has some rather bizarre fringe members. Like any other family, the woodworking clan has a number of relatives that most peo...

Faith in what is unknown can be difficult. Why do we believe in what we believe in? Is it just a matter of faith? Many times that is all it takes. Faith….and a multimillion dollar advertising budget. Advertising, as you know, is a great catalyst of faith. Glue. Ordinary, regular, everyday glue. This is a post about glue. Now that we are clear on that I feel I can continue. I say that ‘faith’ is attaching a series of wooden boards together, with nothing more than yellow glue and expecting it to hold for a generation. Faith in action is selling said item for over a hundred bucks. Take for example your average wooden kitchen cutting board. Did you know that your fancy wooden kitchen cutting board is nothing more than wood and glue. That’s it. Wood. Glue, and maybe some laxative for a finish. I’m not kidding you! This is the real scoop here! The most popular hundred-plus-dollar-wooden-cutting-board-finish is mineral oil. So wood, glue and a bottle of unstopper....

You can spend all day in the shop working, and not produce anything. Sometimes these are your best days. Sharpen, sharpen sharpen. The woodworkers mantra. Never do woodworking angry, agitated or when you need to pee. Relax and take your time. Your projects and your fingers will thank you. Taking the time to learn more about best routers for table mounting is very helpful in the long run. If it doesn’t feel safe, it’s probably not. Everyone has a woodworking horror story, scars come with the territory. If you are even slightly squeamish, don’t start this conversation. Nothing hurts as bad as a nasty finish on a well build project. When in doubt, keep sanding. Rejects make great gifts. AKA no one else sees your flaws as well as you do. Tool lust comes with the hobby. Warn your pocketbook early. There will always be something else you need to have. There is always someone who can out spend you. Nothing beats the feeling of a well done project. Except maybe getting paid ...

Woodworking is, without a doubt, my favorite hobby now. I started out getting hooked on this hobby, from making a small, “bookshelf toy shelf living room space saver thing”. When I first completed it, I was like a new dad. “COME SEE MY BOOKCASE! See, how it’s square? See the shelf and how level it is!? Did you notice those nice clean butt joints?” About a week later someone said to me, “Welcome to the craft. Enjoy it. And after a while, you’ll look back at your first project with disgust.” “Oh, Okay. Thanks for the advice. I’m sure that applies to you, but I’m perfect. Sorry you didn’t get the memo.” “That’s absurd,” I thought. How could I ever see anything but perfection in this? Well… he’s was right. I’ve only been woodworking for about 9 months, and I find that that this ‘perfect’ bookshelf is an unrelenting thumb in my eye whenever I come home. Every time I l...

There is something appealing about free. Free. Something for nothing. “You want it? It’s yours.” “What’s the cost?” “No cost. Nothing. It’s free. Just take it.” I should have known better. There is nothing quite as expensive as free. Two weekends ago I got a deal. A real honest to goodness bargain. As I was browsing through Craigslist looking for inexpensive power tools to feed my new addiction, I found this post: “Free Vintage Sears Lathe” Needless to say I mashed out a frantic email to aforementioned giver of free tools letting them know how much I wanted it. “I will come and pick it up TODAY. no questions asked.” Within three minutes of the ad appearing online, I had a phone call from the owner letting me know where to pick it up. For those not in “the know” a lathe has one purpose. To take a block of material, wood in this case, and spin it at near dangerous speeds. My lathe spins at four speed...

There are few things as defeating as starting over. When you believe that you have completed a project, paper, blog or task to realized that something is not satisfactory. You sit there putting the finishing touches on it when it hits you like a ton of bricks. You begin to rationalize. It’s not that bad, I can fix it. No matter how hard you try, you know the truth of it cannot be escaped. Life is about to teach you a valuable lesson that you will shell out for in heaps of wasted time. Buckle up. So you just finished the most amazing wrapping job on Earth. Perfectly folded corners and the most delightful bow you’ve ever tied. I mean, honestly, when does curling ribbon ever curl that well? Only when curling ribbon knows what you don’t. It knows that you’ve been a total stooge and left the “HALF-OFF CLEARANCE” sticker smack dab in the center of Aunt Betsy’s gift. I recently found myself at the end of a woodworking project. It wasn’t anything ...

It’s true. I’m a thief, a scoundrel, a scallywag. My victims are totally helpless, and I swoop in a take what I need. They cannot stop me. I’m not in the least bit repentant about it. In fact I’m proud of it. I say, “If your silly enough to pass on with nice stuff in your garage, it’s your own fault when your wife and son sell it to me for next to nothing!” My soul is absolutely filthy. I need help. I don’t remember the exact date, but sometime in September I found myself souring thorough Craigslist when I found a posting for a ’12” free standing band saw for $25′. It’s not important what a 12″ free standing band saw is, or what it does, just know this. That price was UNHEARD OF! So I did what I always do on Craigslist. I waited three days and then sent a email like, “Are you still trying to get rid of your old band saw?” This is a low tactic, but not too low for a jerk such as myself. $25 for a 12...

“Where have all the fingers gone, long time passing? Where have all the fingers gone, long time ago? Where have all the fingers gone, gone to table saws everyone When will they ever learn, when will they ever learn?” I have a new hobby. Finger cutting. Okay, given the squeamish nature of some folks, and the opening lines of this post let me pause. I would like to say that I have never in my life cut myself with a power saw. I have all my fingers and no gruesome tales to spin here. Honestly. That being said, my new hobby has my certain hazards that never existed with my other pastimes. Computing is a rather safe use of your free time. I have never, for instance, worried about safe mouse handling, or what horrible things I could do to myself if I left my attention drift. August for me, was the month that I acquired a table saw. Life will never be the same. I now can demolish an unsuspecting piece of wood in a spectacular display of flying sawdust, whirling blades of carbide ti...

“Runs With Power Tools” It’s my Indian name. I just upgraded it from, “Collects power tools and never uses them, even though he has a workbench.” It was a bit awkward anyway. Introductions at parties were always a bit lengthy followed by a fairly pregnant pause. Recently I have decided to try and build some stuff with my tools. It’s funny because I really do have a nice selection of tools that I had never put to any real use. So there I am in my garage at my workbench which was was all together well organized, neat and tidy. In other words, it was a complete travesty. In only eight short hours though I fixed it. I fixed it as only a real man can. I turned into an absolute pig sty but in the mist of this pile of sawdust, wood chips, glue, nails and tools was a box. A box that I created. The box was not square. The edges seemed to wave a little like it was cut by some recovering drug addict trying to keep his mind off the last fix. In addition I had a n...