Y'know, I had a quiet minute just to sit and think today. And when I got
back from the restroom, I had created a reallybigthought of sorts.
I mean, I live here in "Northern" California (more particularly, the
BADlands of California). We've been getting some of that airborne moisture
that I've seen so much of when visiting places like Corvallis and Seattle.
So last night while Mrs. McGee and little Conk were out, I left the
carhole doors closed while working on the Bathroom Vanity of Eternal
And so then I figgered that it would sure be nice when the days
were longer and the localized atmospheric conditions less waterful,
and I could open the doors or even move some of my stuff out of the
carhole and into the yard. And that, of course, made me think of
our own Patrick Olguin's LowCal Wood Modification Facility.
And so today as I was ruminating, or whatnot, I realized that what O'Deen
needs is a nice sign. And in honor of his Sunset Magazine lifestyle, I
think it should say:
(okay, not worth the buildup, but *you're* the one who read this far
into a post by someone named "Buttonhole.")
Oyez! Thought you might be from McGee clan of Baton Roooooge.
Had no idea McGee's migrated that far west.
IIRC, about 1853, it was Jester McGee that tried to cross the Rockies in
Jester, (maybe you knew him as "Morgan"?), ran into trouble when his
Schooner threw a felly rim.
Heard the tale that he survived the winter on nuts n' berries. Him being too
kind-hearted to kill the mules.
Some sketchy reports of him surfacing in San Fran - working the wharfs -
Genealogy trails off after that.
No idea the McGee's made it that far.
Not the "sharpest tools in the shed", I think.
[ No offense, of course! ]
Based on the general reaction I have to the stuff that leaves my shop
(after having been ham-fistedly abused by my very well taken care of
tools), a more appropriate shop sign would be...
Paddy's Oh.... oh... oh ohhhhhhhhhhhhh Shit!
It's a nice thing my varied, sundry, patient and faithful customers
aren't nearly so critical.
Funny you should mention the outdoor shop. We're having the second
installment of our bi-annual rainfail (it only rains twice a year here
- once for two weeks, and once for three weeks), and so shoptime has
been precious. It did clear up this weekend, and I was immediately
hard at work in the jungle shop, making mistakes as quickly as I could
put plane to wood. This weekend's example was a simple speaker shelf
for a friend. Out of expediency and sloth, I had the local Lowe's
slice a decent piece of 3/4" oak ply into something resembling a
rectangle, and I proceeded to attach some trim to it. Said attaching
exercise went reasonably well, save for the oh-so-cleverly
blind-nailed part, where the red oak turned black the second I
attempted to glue down the little curl I'd peeled up to hide the nail.
Next time I'll use super glue.
So I had a 53"x23" panel (it's going to hold up a bigass center
speaker for a way-over-the-top home theatre set-up) setting primly in
the sunlight, and it just begged to be oiled, so I slobbered a 1:1
mixture of pure tung oil and paint thinner (mineral spirits, Jeff)
onnit, wiped it off but good, paying special attention to bleed-back,
which you're apt to get with open-pored woods like red oak, and set
upon it with a gorgeous Golden Taklon brush (will never be able to
thank you enough, Jeff Jewitt) and some 1.5# cut of clear shellac.
Pretty much ended up with a generic honey oak look, only better
because it's shellac. After a 1/2 hour of drying or so, sliced off
the one goober of shellac I'd dripped, slid the thing into the trunk
of SWIATAABOC's car and hauled it down to the customer's house to
collect half the commission (will have to wait until installation day
- the day on which the rest of the contractors of various stripes are
scheduled to get their collective shit together - before I take the 20
minutes to mount it on the wall) and leave the shelf in an
out-of-the-way place (there are no such places at my diminutive
domicile) to season.
Besides which, someone miscreant has already taken Paddy O'Furniture
and therefore teak projects-in-the-concept-stage and fire
pit-in-planning notwithstanding, I'm SOL in that department... but
thanks for the thought just the same.
Patrick Olguin wrote:
<snip of a tale of glory, a tale of woe, etc.>
You, sir, have the unmitigated gall to
A) Wooddork outside in February
B) Finish a project (a-ha!)
C) De-clutter your living environment (a stretch, but stay with me)
D) Get paid for A-C
...and yet you maintain a wistful and dismissive tone throughout.
I, on the other hand, miscalculated the widths of the drawers for the
Bathroom Vanity of Uncertain Completion and created several wavy dados
for the drawer bottom (thank you, you fine, fine Ryobi router, for
wobbling in your base). All in the comfort of my junk-filled carhole.
But dangit, I was turning wood from lovely rectangles (and let's face
it, other parallelograms) into scrap, so I'm approaching contentment,
even sans Golden Taklon.
And I like Paddy'O Woodworking better than Paddy O'Furniture anyway.
Like those mom and pop burger joints with all the apostrophes in the
strangest places: "Cri'spy Fry's!"
So watch out if I ever end up as your Galootaclaus. I'll make the sign
outa zebrawood. ;-)
Hey, there's got to be a reason he puts up with the wildfires,
mudslides, Santa Anas, the Govinator, and Caleeforneeeyans in general.
Paddy has been known to do that when he's not too busy planing
boards just to watch the curlies fly.
He's nothing if not wistful and dismissive.
Is that a full carhole or a half-a-carhole?
Paddy's fascination with the brush seems more Golden Bough than
To say nothing of their use of "quotes": Cri'spy "Fry'"s
I'd like to be on the receiving end of Paddy's generosity at
Galootsmastime. I imagine he has a few rusty bits he wouldn't mind
Chuck Vance (who was out in the shop his-own-self doing some
carving yesterday as the temp approached 75 degrees down here in
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