Resurfacing Elena's Table, Part 2

So, it's the Saturday of Thanksgiving weekend -- a good time for projects. Given that I was up for hours with a headache last night (I think I got maybe 3 hours of sleep, but that's pushing it), it's a good day for some physical activity. I have a couple of projects just perfect for such an eventuality.

Due to lack of sleep, I'm sure I'll ramble and make several grammatical errors. I hope my editor friend Kathy will look past this. I'm sure I also made several woodworking errors. I hope my woodworking friend will give me a few gentle pointers. I can't quite figure out if it's relevant that my editor friend is married to my woodworking friend... must get more sleep.

So, anyway, one such project is resurfacing Elena's table. If you recall, last time I sanded down the table (by hand, with Elena's help) and applied a simple beeswax polish, letting the pine soak up the liquid wax, and then buffing it down. However, the polish did not stand up to wear, and stains were able to sink into the wood despite the beeswax. That sort of polish just is not the sort of thing for a toddler eating table.

So, this presents the perfect opportunity to get to know my jack plane. Dad had gotten me this plane back a couple years ago for making a few interior doors fit their frames, and I hadn't since had a good opportunity to hone my skills. The stains had sunk in deep, so even power sanding would take a while. The plane is perfect for the job. In theory.

So, I got it out and hardly remembered how to use it, let alone how to assemble and adjust it. After a half hour of fiddling with it, trying different things, and getting frustrated with cutting too deep or not cutting at all or jumping the plane across the surface of the table (called frogging), I consulted the online manuals (youtube).

Lesson #1 learned: how to assemble and adjust a jack plane.

So, now that I had a clue, I went out and had some good swipes. I was still catching my edge on occasion, so I definitely had some technique and fine tuning left to learn. But, ah! Long curly shavings of pine were twirling off of my hands. A truly beautiful... crunch. Uh oh.

I looked down and blinked a few times. How was that possible? A large piece on the edge of the table simply chipped right off. I could see ground where I should be seeing table. This was not good.

Upon further inspecting my mistake, it didn't seem too bad. If I could just plane down the rest of the table a quarter of an inch, then it would hardly be visible, right? The table top seemed thick enough to allow this. As to why this had happened, I thought it a freak of nature, and even if it weren't, I didn't have enough data to go on.

Adjusting my plane a bit shallower, I continued on, some of the rosy color having drained from my glasses. The shavings were coming off smoother now. This is how it's supposed to feel. Nice and smooth. Beautiful shavings curling... crunch crunch. Oh bother.

I could hardly stand to view my handiwork. I had taken a bigger chunk out of the opposite side of the table, this time having ripped off a section reaching all the way down the edge and out the bottom.

Now, if any of you have seen Meet the Robinsons, you would know that this failure would be cause for a big celebration. However, I'm not a Robinson, so I met this with chagrin and a deflated sense of misaccomplishment. But I was going to try and learn from this mistake.

Now, I know that you're supposed to plane and sand with the grain. I've known this since I was old enough to hold sandpaper, and my father would probably attest that I've had to relearn this several times since then. But this is the first time I've planed across a knot. Two knots, in fact. Two knots, both on the edges of the table, in fact. The grain in a knot goes down through the table, and being on the edge offered the knot a perfect opportunity for escape. All it needed was a little bump in the right direction, which I had just supplied. My plane would have had to have been extremely sharp, and fortunate, to have successfully shaved those knots.

Lesson #2 learned: Be careful when planing knots. In fact, don't. Plane around them and sand them down later.

I had now broken my daughter's lovely table, and my family's coffee table (same table). So I did what any self-respecting man should do: I took responsibility for my misdeed and fessed up.

After some incredulity that I was planing the table, Serena offered a good suggestion: glue the chips back on and sand it down.

Lesson #3 learned: Impartial bystanders can offer good suggestions. Swallowing pride can help reverse mistakes by seeking and accepting advice.

So, after finding the pieces, and confirming that I had hit the only two knots on the table, I planed off the rest of the stains and glued the chips back in. One of the chips was missing a bit, which I had to fill with a glue/woodshaving mix. So that's how you make particle board...

And now I'm waiting for it to dry so I can continue with that project. In the meanwhile, I have another one to go after. I'm making a pair of woolcombs to turn a 4.5 pound merino sheep's wool fleece into roving for spinning, with a top whorl drop spindle I also need to make. Why pay $100 when I can make a simple set of combs out of a 1x4 and some nails? Hopefully, that project won't be quite so eventful. But we'll see in an upcoming blog post!