You Will Pay in the End

I become more amazing every day.

I had three bolts broken off inside the wall of the tube on my table saw. How the previous owner managed to break them is a mystery. I had to get them out. I drove to Home Depot and bought an extractor.

I drilled a hole in the end of a bolt, planning to use the extractor. As soon as the bit went through (the bolt remnant was very short), the bolt popped through the bolt hole and disappeared. I guess it caught on the bit, and the bit turned it. Same thing happened on the second bold. On the third, I decided to be safe and use the extractor. I opened a hole, stuck the extractor in, started turning…and it snapped, leaving a piece of hard steel embedded in the bolt. Nice.

This is what I get for doing something right.

The great thing is, this gave me an opportunity to use my diamond rotary bits. I can’t remember how I ended up with them. Ebay, I guess. They’re for rotary tools like Dremels. I experimented with several, and finally, I found one I liked. I opened a nice big cavity in the bolt, hopefully with no extractor bits left in it, and I went to work with the drill again. Pretty soon the bolt disappeared, just like the others.

This is the beauty of having too many tools. You can almost always find something that will do what you want.

I got the saw set up (rails but no extension), and I tried a saw-calibrating method I had heard of. I crosscut a piece of wood with an X drawn on it, and then I mated up the sides, turned one piece over, and mated them again. The wood was about three inches across. I think there may be a tiny error of a small fraction of a millimeter, but it’s so small, I’m not sure. I put the pieces of wood together and checked them every way I could, using a square and straightedge. I noticed that the miter gauge from my Ridgid portable gave a better result than the nicer of the two gauges that came with the Powermatic 66. I guess it’s possible that the error came from the miter gauge.

The Corian blade made a very nice cut, but it seemed slow.

I was able to park the saw next to the wall with the rails on it, but I discovered that I was no longer able to open the car door. So things had to be reorganized. But now that the saw is on wheels, I don’t really care. Wheels seem to be the secret to successful small workshops.

Things are looking up. It’s pretty clear that I can put enough stuff out there to be able to tackle most problems and projects. I may even steal my cousin’s plans and build a cyclone.

What a Delightful Surprise

It turns out the guy who sold me the Powermatic 66 has a sense of humor.

I was trying to get the rails mounted. This should have been a ten-minute job, but I found rust and gunk on the tube, and I had to get it off. I started with a drill and wire wheel…then I remembered my GIGANTIC COMPRESSOR. I fired it up and appled the needle scaler. Unfortunately, it ate the paint pretty fast. So I finished up with sandpaper and the drill. I don’t care about the paint, because it’s going to have to be redone anyway. But I plan to use the saw before repainting, so I don’t want to mess it up more than necessary.

I got the tube cleaned up to where it was usable, and then I noticed three bolts, broken off inside the side of the tube. And of course, I had no extractors. So I had to hit Home Depot, just for the purpose of getting one. The assortment they had was lame, so I plan to root around on the web to see what else is out there. I bought one tiny extractor. It should do the job. Luckily, the bolts go into a hollow space, so if I can get them to turn in either direction, I’ll be fine. They’ll back out, or they’ll go forward and drop out inside the tube.

I saw a couple of bolt heads on the floor when I picked up the saw. Evidently, he had started dismantling it, but he hadn’t been able to finish. He didn’t say a thing about it. Maybe he was trying to take it apart so he could sell it to someone who would pay more.

I found out that the measuring tape on the tube can be replaced very easily. They cost twenty bucks, tops. So I may refinish the rails and tube eventually. Right now, I just want the saw to WORK.

They Need a Bath

Help me out, tool nuts.

The rails on my Powermatic 66 have a lot of rust and crud on them. It’s bad enough to make me worry that the fence’s accuracy will be affected. I started working on it with a wire wheel, but that’s pretty slow. And I had to be careful to avoid the paint.

I’m wondering if I should just strip it bare and repaint it. The paint looks bad, and it will be hard to clean off the rust and gunk without removing the paint. Problem: the tape-measure part does not come off, so I don’t know how to work around it, and I can’t figure out how to replace it if I strip the markings off of it.

I’m not sure what kind of paint to use, either. It would have to be very tough.

I could get some blasting media and a blaster and Northern Tool and give it hell.

What would you do?

Back to the Land of Barbecue and Bass Boats

As stated previously, I had to travel this weekend. Believe it or not, I went to Frostproof again!

Last week, we were not able to get my sister to go. During the week, she said she regretted missing the trip. On Friday, I realized there was no reason we couldn’t make a second trip. So I made the proposal, and my dad and my sister accepted, and off we went!

This was a better trip; my cousin Wade was there this time, so we got to visit.

I’ll show you a few things.

This is from the first trip, in December. It’s a purple gallinule. My cousin Peg took us down to a public dock, and she opened a bag of crackers, and this bird heard it and made a frantic dash for us. They like crackers.

Here are Gladys, my father, and Peg on the dock.

Here is Gladys, looking out over Lake Reedy. She was there about five minutes before she made some new friends and got into an animated conversation. Not bad for nearly 93.

Here are some shots from the second trip. First, Gladys’s Caddy. Note the Bush sticker.

Here’s a garage wall with a bunch of stuff from Kentucky on it. Cast iron, a wooden bowl, a butter churn, a washboard, and of course, Big Mouth Billy Bass.

I got some photos of my cousin Steve’s workshop. Here’s a dust collection cyclone he built himself. Wade was a little miffed because he didn’t get credit for the metal parts, which he put together for Steve.

This is Steve’s rotating table. You can see the miter saw on the top. On the bottom, there is a lathe.

Here’s the old drill press. He says he got it from a Montgomery Ward that closed. They were using it to drill bowling balls.

Here you see my dad, Gladys, and Wade.

Frostproof is a wonderful town, although the landscape is pretty scrubby. Central Florida is not a feast for the eyes. You can have a very nice yard or small farm, but big pieces of land tend to look dry and forlorn. If you go a little farther north in Florida, things look a lot better.

I asked Gladys about the churches up there. She attends a Baptist church, and she used to teach Sunday school for them. They bring her recordings of the services when she doesn’t feel like going. They have several other churches.

While we were at the dock a week ago, I found a stainless steel fish hook on the planks. At first, I didn’t think anything of it. Then I thought of the prayer Rick Wilkerson offered for my dad, the last time my sister were in his church. He prayed that God would put a hook in his jaw and bring him to church. And it occurred to me, how nice it would be to be drawn out of Miami and into a peaceful place like Frostproof, with nice people and lots of breathing room. I put the hook in my pocket and brought it home.

Here it is on the railing at the dock:

You will also see it on this blog’s header.

I have stuff to do. Enjoy your Monday.

Help me Park This Thing

Sorry about the hiatus yesterday. I had to do a little unexpected traveling. More about that when I am less pooped.

I want to announce that I got the mobile base for my giant Powermatic 66 saw finished. It was a pain, but I did it. I don’t just mean putting the frame together and adding wheels, which I already bragged about. Now I have the brakes and levelers on.

If you buy one of these things, do yourself a huge favor and find a way to hoist your saw and lower it into the base. It has a whole bunch of bolts that go into nuts which are on the inside of the frame, against the saw. It’s not easy getting them all installed and tightened. And when you get to the levelers, you will find that some of the holes you used for the structural bolts are really leveler holes (they don’t point this out in the instructions), so you have to take these bolts out with your saw sitting in the frame, and then you have to put the levelers in.

It is not fun.

Later this week, the planer will arrive. After that, I will have nearly no excuse for not building something. So you know what that means.

I’ll have to start working really hard on a new excuse.

I’ve been reading Doug Stowe’s Basic Box Making book. I am becoming a fan of this guy, the way teenage girls used to be fans of the Beatles.

All my Saw’s Base are Belong to Me

My saw has a mobile base! It’s incredible! I can push it around the garage, like a sweaty, angry tugboat mooring an aircraft carrier!

I got an HTC 3000 base for it. Now that I have seen how simple a saw base is, and how little steel it takes to hold a 700-pound object, I wish I had made a base from scratch. I could have done a better job. This one is generally okay, but it partially obstructs the dust collection hole, so if I want dust collection, I’m going to have to cut off a piece of the reducer I ordered to hook the saw up to the shop-vac. Maybe I’ll scrounge up some metal and weld up a base. I don’t need it, but that’s no excuse not to do it.

You would be surprised how easy it is to put a huge saw on a base without help. It’s pretty hard, but that’s easy, compared to impossible. And impossible is what I expected. You tilt the saw and put wood under it, and then you tilt it again to get the base between the wood and the saw. Then you put it all together, and you find a way to get the wood out.

I have a hoist, but I don’t trust it with this much weight.

I am now officially out of excuses for not using the saw. With the base working, I can put the rails on the saw, and that means I can put a router extension on it.

Could I be approaching the point where I actually DO something with tools?

I sure hope not.

Rule of Thumb: Keep it Away From the Blade

I am sitting here waiting for tool stuff to arrive.

I decided to get an HTC mobile base for my table saw, since it is unusable unless it can be rolled. It’s impossible to buy one around here without paying an arm and a leg, so I ordered it. Once I have it in hand, I can start putting the saw together in a usable configuration. After that, I can check to see how well it works.

I still don’t know how well the Corian blades will work on wood. Someone told me they might be slow because they have a “negative rake.” I suppose the only test is to throw a piece of wood on the table.

I should get off my butt and make some table inserts and a cover for the motor. To make the inserts, I’ll need a router bit with a bearing. I bought one to make a hole for my router lift, but the bearing has slid down the shaft, away from the cutting part of the bit. I can’t figure that out. Is that supposed to happen? Maybe it will still work if I jam the bit as far into the collet as possible, so the collet supports the bearing.

I don’t know what to make the motor cover from. I suppose a nice grade of plywood. I could use something cheap, but I’ll have to look at this thing every time I use the saw, so it would be nice if it looked good. I can slop some paint on it.

I read the most disturbing thing on a forum today. There was a thread about safety, and one guy said he had cut off five fingers, some more than once! I couldn’t believe it! I felt like posting a message, asking if maybe he was in the wrong line of work, but I was afraid he would be offended. You only have to cut off my fingers once to make me realize I’m doing something wrong.

I guess reattaching fingers must be a lot easier than it used to be.

The table saw/router project is going nowhere until that mobile base arrives. I feel like I’m frozen in carbonite.

Call me the Wood Whimperer

I didn’t get a whole lot of input on the planer sled idea, but as far as I’m concerned, it’s a done deal. One reader said it was a pain to set up, but compared to sacrificing a fourth of the garage for a jointer that will only plane small pieces of wood, that is a small problem.

As for planer choices, it sort of looks like a reconditioned DeWalt is the way to go. I just got a reconditioned router, and it appears to be unused. A new Ridgid or Delta planer costs about the same amount, but the Delta is not as good as the DeWalt, and the Ridgid is not as good as the Delta. And DeWalt offers a good warranty on recons. You can’t compare it to Ridgid’s lifetime deal, but you get a much better tool.

I have to think about a project, and I have to get the lowdown on obtaining wood. I’m interested in using free local live oak. Some people say it’s not very good, but I have seen bowls made from it, and they looked fantastic. Not as pretty as maple or walnut, but well worth the effort. I wonder if any of the exotic trees we have here are of any use. This town is full of Australian pines (casuarinas) which have very heavy wood, but some people say it’s useless because it cracks and warps as it dries.

I can just see me, jumping out of my dad’s SUV and wrestling people’s garbage into the back. That’s where live oak is found; in trash heaps.

I don’t know of any other hardwoods that grow down here, except for mahogany. We have no maples or hickories. Definitely no walnuts or pecans. The web says there are red maples in the Everglades, but I’ve never seen one in Miami. Believe it or not, citrus wood is supposed to be good for turning.

If I succeed in making even one box, everyone who reads this blog has to tug the forelock and acknowledge my prowess.

Further Confirmation for People Who Think I’m Nuts

This year I have been putting up pieces explaining various reasons I have for believing in God. I thought I’d toss another one out tonight. You may think I’m crazy after you read it, but there is a good chance you thought that already.

Please don’t take this the wrong way. It’s not intended to be gross, or to somehow reconcile Christianity with lewdness. And I didn’t hear it from a preacher; it occurred to me independently. I don’t know if anyone else has these ideas.

What happened during the Crucifixion? Jesus wore a crown of thorns. He was killed. At the moment of his death, the veil in the temple was torn down the middle.

Here is the story of the veil. It hung between the main part of the temple and the holy of holies. The holy of holies was the location of the Ark of the Covenant. Only Levites were allowed to approach it. They had to be male. They had to be unblemished, and in the Bible, an unblemished male symbolizes the sinless Son of God. They had to be ritually pure before they entered, because the presence of God was in the holy of holies–in any place where the Ark was located. If they were not fit to approach, they died. According to Aaron, the Jews used to tie ropes to the ankles of the priests in case they were killed by the virtue of God. The ropes were used to drag them out, because anyone who approached to remove the bodies could be killed as well.

The veil was very, very thick. It was many thicknesses of cloth, sewn together. Some sources say it was four inches thick. Some say more. In any case, it probably was not an insubstantial piece of fabric that could tear for no good reason. So why did it tear, and why was this mentioned in the Bible? What possible importance did it have? I think I can explain.

What happened when Jesus died? Human beings, who would otherwise have been destroyed and lost, became capable of receiving the Holy Spirit, maturing into godly beings of greatly improved character and faith, and receiving the promise of eternal life in the presence of God.

The Crucifixion was an act of fertilization. It imparted new potential to us, just as fertilization imparts new potential to human ova, which otherwise pass out of the body and rot. It allowed the Holy Spirit to enter us and cause us to grow and improve and turn into beings which can eventually leave our limited world and become part of a bigger one. Just as babies leave their small world and enter ours.

The things I’ve said so far are not particularly controversial. But when you put them together, you get something that will probably make people uncomfortable.

I believe the crown of thorns represented circumcision. I believe the veil of the temple represented the natural veil that exists inside a woman’s body before she first has sex. I believe the tear in the veil showed that humanity had been imbued with the seed of God and enabled to grow to be like him. Before the Crucifixion, only the priests and a few prophets could approach God. Afterward, that privilege became available to all of us, because we were cleansed by Christ’s blood, as the priests were cleansed before entering the holy of holies.

Jesus was God’s instrument of fertilization, just as men have instruments of fertilization. The tearing of the veil was like the tearing that takes place when a pure woman comes together with her husband. In relation to God, humanity is feminine. This is why the church is called the Bride of Christ. The temple represented the body of a woman, with the holy of holies as her most private area.

Here’s an odd thing that seems to fit in with this pattern of symbolism. Have you ever looked at the Ark? It’s a container with two angelic figures on top of it, facing each other. Google a picture of it. Now Google a diagram of a woman’s uterus and ovaries. You would have to be blind to miss the resemblance.

In Christianity, a believer becomes like the Ark. God comes to live inside us, gestating as we become more like him. His spirit puts his nature inside us, just as the Mosaic laws are present in the Ark in the form of the tablets on which the Ten Commandments are inscribed. At some point, it also contained Aaron’s rod, which represents the power of faith. It also contained manna, which probably represented God’s provision for our needs.

If you think about it, what Jesus accomplished was a lot like the competition to reach the ovum. There are many candidates for the title of redeemer and savior, but only one gets through and accomplishes the act.

This symbolic pattern is something that came to me a long time ago. It’s so clear, I can’t believe any of it is coincidental.

I thought about it tonight while I watched a Perry Stone video on the Rapture. He pointed out something fascinating. In his time, Jesus was the living ark. Perry Stone didn’t say that; it’s something people already believe. Here’s what Stone said: after Jesus died, two angels were found, one at each end of the slab where his body had rested. These angels were–or represented–the carved cherubim on the Ark of the Covenant. The carved cherubim sat on either side of the lid, which was called the mercy seat; it was the place where God’s spirit rested. The purpose of the angels at the tomb was to show that an earthly vessel containing God’s presence had sat between them.

That certainly makes sense to me. They had no other reason to be there. Jesus was gone; the tomb was empty.

I see symbolism like this all over the place. There is too much of it for it not to mean anything.

In other news, I think my best option right now is to get a small Delta planer and forget about jointers. I can fake jointing, but a planer is a near-must. I’m also thinking I need to look into a band saw. Why? Because a man who has a band saw, a maul, and wedges can make finished lumber from tree trunks. I live in a place where oaks and other trees are piled by the roadside all the time; it would be great fun to see if I could turn some of it into boxes or tables. And I would also be able to use boards from the property I inherited from my grandparents, if I ever got ahold of any. And there are a million other things a band saw can do.

My Portable 700-Pound Saw

I have to break down and get a wheeled base for the Powermatic 66. I can’t put the rails on, add a router insert, connect a shop-vac, or do anything at all of value until I can roll this baby around the garage.

Problem: the nearest available mobile base is in Pompano Beach, and they want $35 more for it than Amazon, which will also deliver it for nothing. My cheapness gene is shrieking.

I know what you’re going to say. “Weld one up!” That’s a fine idea, except that it wouldn’t be all that much cheaper than buying one. I don’t have enough steel. Maybe if I could scrounge up an old bed frame I could do it, but they are never around when you need one. And the main problem, really, is that I have no idea how to make one that will do what an HTC mobile base will do. An HTC 3000 will hold the saw a scant 3/4″ off the floor, and it will lower it when I get it where I want it.

I could buy a piece of thick plywood and add wheels, but the saw would be maybe 4″ taller than it is now.

I’m all excited about the idea of making a sled for a planer, to obviate the need for a jointer. My hope is to start out with very small wood projects, so I should be able to get by with a pretty small sled I can story without too much hassle. Boy, would that beat a huge machine taking up tons of real estate. And with over 11″ of capacity, I wouldn’t have the small-jointer blues.

The cabinet saw has a design feature I don’t understand. The bottom is wide open. So if you hook a vacuum up to it, most of the dust will bypass it and land on the ground. I wonder why it’s made that way. You would think they would have stuck a sheet of metal or something in the bottom. I suppose I can make something from hardboard. Hopefully the vacuum won’t suck it out of place.

I also have to make a motor cover. I can get one from Powermatic, but everyone says they’re awful, so I think quarter-inch plywood is the way to go.

There must be something I can do right now. I guess the motor cover and some throat plate inserts are within my reach.

I talked with my sister today. She swears she’s quitting smoking. Man, what a relief. My mother died from lung cancer. My aunt. Two great-grandmothers. My uncle died from stomach cancer which may have been caused by smoking and snuff. Enough is enough.

We both have the feeling that this family is walking out of a dark tunnel together. How strange it is, talking to her about things like this. A year ago, I thought there was no hope for our relationship. Now we go to church together and buy each other Bibles and Bible software. It gives me hope that we will eventually get my dad into church, and maybe we’ll be able to help other members of our family who are not as close to God as they should be.

There is nothing like taking a negative relationship and turning it into a positive one. You lose a spiritual and emotional drain, and you turn it into a source of strength and faith. It puts you two ahead on the ratio of positive to negative relationships, because you lose a bad relationship and gain a good one. Mathematically, it’s far better than just forming a new bond with a new person.

These days I look forward to hearing from her. In the past, I did not, because it usually meant there was going to be friction. When she kept to herself, I was happy. That was all I asked of her. Now we go places together, and we talk about our hopes for the future. An enormous source of stress is gone from my life, and presumably, from hers. Only God could do something like this.

Guess I better make a decision about that mobile base.

Cheap = Good

I love Taunton.com. I pay a piddling sum every year, and they let me root through their PDF articles. They also have videos.

Today I found a great article. A woodworker named Gary Rust (good thing he’s not a welder) invented a sled you can use to run warped boards through a planer. It will give you one flat, milled side. Then you flip the wood over and plane the other side without the sled.

This is fantastic. Not only can you avoid buying a jointer; you can use a $350 planer to plane boards nearly a foot wide. Yes, I said “plane.” Let’s be serious; that’s what a jointer does.

Grizzly’s cheapest 8″ jointer costs $700 plus shipping, and it’s merely a Grizzly, and it’s gigantic. This guy’s sled will do bigger boards, and it costs $20.

Here’s what I want to know. Why isn’t somebody patenting and selling this? Too late now; he put it in a magazine article. But he could have made some money. I would have been thrilled to pay between fifty and a hundred bucks for a simple, compact tool that would let me avoid buying a jointer.

If this thing works, it means you can plane and thickness your wood on your planer, square up the edges with your table saw or even a circular saw and track system, and avoid the jointer altogether.

Turn Off the Monitor and Get me a Sedative

Everyone who thinks I got a good deal on the Powermatic 66, take a look at this: CLICK. That’s an old Walker-Turner cabinet saw, for $195. Pretty cool.

I don’t know much about Walker-Turner, but I’ve heard about their tools, and I haven’t seen any critical remarks, except that their table saws are on the underpowered side. But that’s what new motors are for.

There is also an ad for a “commercial” Powermatic table saw in Hialeah, for $200. I hope it’s a pile of rust!

I read a little bit about planers and jointers yesterday. I drew two conclusions. First, if you can’t have both, a planer is better than a jointer. Second, sooner or later, you will need an 8″ jointer.

It’s kind of weird. The most popular size for a jointer is 6″, but I am told that most of the lumber you will want to mill with it will be about 7″ wide. I don’t know much about the way jointers work; maybe you can take a 7″ board and run it through a 6″ jointer twice, to get the whole thing done.

People are telling me the old Delta jointer I pointed out yesterday is probably a good buy. It’s something to think about. I linked to a giant Powermatic as a joke,  but I can’t see buying one, unless I find it within a block, and the owner is willing to help me wheel it over here. And it would take up a whole lot of room. The Delta looks small enough to hide by a garage wall.

Doug Stowe says he uses a combination jointer and planer, to save room.

Maybe someone in my area will retire and sell one cheap!

Of Solid Iron

I leveled up the wings on the Powermatic 66 today. I watched a woodworking video where the guy used clamps and straight pieces of wood, and I tried his technique. You set a straight piece of wood across each joint on a wing, and you put a clamp on each side of the joint. In theory, this pulls the wing level with the table. Didn’t work for me. The wings just sat there. So I used the wood and clamps for support while I leveled the wings by eyeball.

I needed the wings level so I could reattach the rails. But I learned something interesting. I don’t know how the rails go back on. There are all sorts of screw holes in the rails, so they’ll go on in a number of ways. Photos generally show rails set up so the front rail’s end is about at the left edge of the left wing, but I have to wonder, is that mandatory? Can I put the saw more toward the center of the rails?

I was actually wondering where the tube was supposed to go, but then I realized the graduations tell you where the saw blade is supposed to be, relative to it. I’m so smart.

I plan to saw up my old computer desk and stick it between the rails as a tablesaw insert, as soon as I can figure out where the rails are supposed to be.

The screws that hold the rails on are not in great shape. The saw’s previous owner broke a number of them. Guess Home Depot can replace them.

I considered buying a new miter gauge, but I decided against it. The old ones are usable, and I have become suspicious of fancy new tools, like the Incra gauge everyone loves. Better to see what miter gauges do, before spending money on them. I notice that the guys in the woodworking videos don’t have a lot of high-dollar, overly sophisticated stuff. Doug Stowe uses an ancient Atlas tablesaw, a plain old miter gauge, and a bunch of homemade sleds and jigs to do his thing.

From looking at my cousin’s shop, I can see that I didn’t even need the Powermatic 66. I could have done fine with a Home Depot contractor saw. BUT the contractor saw would have cost more than the Powermatic 66, so the choice was clear.

Uh oh. Look at THIS: CLICK.

I wonder if that thing can be brought back to life. I’m scared of used tools, but that one, like a table saw, is probably not too complicated. Maybe I’m wrong. Dang, for a hundred bucks, how bad could it be?

Here’s something really awful: CLICK.

I’m quitting now.

Same Owner, New Management

I’ve been screwing around all day, getting it together after the Frostproof trip. My sleep schedule was disrupted up there, so I got up at 8:30. What a luxury. I had to pick Marvin and Maynard up from the bird hotel, and when I got home, packages started arriving. The dust door for the Powermatic 66. The Dewalt router my dad got me for Christmas. The 50-amp plug for the Powermatic.

I got the plug installed in about ten minutes. It would have gone faster, but I had cleaned the power cord with stuff made to put a shine on tires, and as a result, handling it made my hands very slippery, even though it’s dry. But I succeeded, and then I crammed the plug into the receptacle, hoped for the best, and hit the magnetic starter. The saw began without hesitation, throwing a considerable amount of dust into my face. It seems like there is no way to get all the dust out of that thing. It makes more while I sleep.

But it runs! It’s very quiet, too. Of course, it was only cutting air. Wood is louder. I’m not sure the blade is running as true as it should. But that can be fixed.

The dust door popped right in. I can see why the old one was gone. They have no hinges. They’re held in by a tab on one side and a latch sort of a thing on the other side. When you open the latch, the door comes completely off.

I am getting so much satisfaction from this saw. And I haven’t even used it yet. Just getting it here was a miracle.

I had to order the router myself. I decided to take a chance on reconditioned. I had read that the overwhelming majority of reconditioned power tools were unused, and that they were often better than new tools, because they had been sent back and looked over, getting more attention than the usual run of merchandise. The router looks great. I see no signs of use, although it looks like it may have been handled.

This is supposed to be a super-fantastic router. Better than the Bosch equivalent. I had my big Bosch in the lift, and that meant I had nothing to use freehand. Now that problem is fixed. I hope I don’t get addicted to expensive bits.

I am planning to do the URL switch right away, so there may be a short time during which you can’t access my blog. I know this will be devastating to you, but try to be strong and get over it.

Last night, it kept coming home to me, how much I preferred the new URL and name. My life is not inclined toward the negative any more, so why have a blog name that reflects a negative, counterproductive attitude? I’m also going to get rid of the pig logo, which most people hated anyway.

The Internet is a nasty place. It’s full of venom and bitterness and filth. It brings out the worst in us. I succumbed to that. I contributed to it. Now I want my site to be a refuge, where decent people don’t have to worry that they’ll be offended or corrupted.

We will see how that works out. I know a lot of people are disappointed in the turn the site has taken, but this is not a business, so I don’t really care. I have been taking this attitude since what, 2006? I still remember telling my editor not to mention this site on the cover of my first book.

Okay, this entry is going up, and then I’ll have to call my hosting company. Say goodbye to Hog on Ice.

Magical Town Where no One Gives You the Finger

I had an utterly fantastic weekend, and I am here to blog about it.

Before I even start, let me say that I have learned that being a curmudgeon is overrated. These days, I get up in the morning and literally get down on the floor and acknowledge God, and every night before I go to bed, I get down there again and thank him for a wonderful day, and I always mean it. And it doesn’t seem to matter what happened that day; in retrospect, it always seems wonderful. I hope I have that same feeling at the end of my life.

Being happy is something I highly recommend. While there is a certain amount of pleasure to be had from griping and criticizing, it’s not nearly as good as talking about how great things are going.

Where was I this weekend? Frostproof, of course. Home of my great Aunt Gladys, who is about to turn 93.

Unfortunately, due to FTP issues and laziness, I have many old blog entries which are not on my server, and one of them details my first visit to Frostproof. I’ll go over the basics again. Around Christmas of 2006, my dad started bugging me to go visit his 90-year-old aunt in Central Florida. I thought he was insane. I believe in showing respect to older relatives and so on, but he was trying to get me to go stay in her house. I pictured a frail old lady, having heart palpitations because of the stress of caring for two grown men. And I had never met her–didn’t even know who she was–and I didn’t understand why we should go spend time with a total stranger.

I agreed to go, because I was trying to be a better Christian and honor my father and so on. And as is so often the case when you do a thing like that, I ended up doing myself a bigger favor than I intended to do him. I met one of the most remarkable people I have ever known.

Gladys could pass for 75. Her hair is thick and silvery, not white and sparse. She sees well. She hears well. Her memory is phenomenal. When you converse with her, she reacts as quickly as a young person. And she’s physically active. She can’t sit still.

Gladys does, or has done, just about everything. She knows how to kill, scald, dress, can, render, and cook a hog. She can shoot. She can fish. She is a highly skilled woodworker, and her house is full of furniture she made. Her house is as clean as a hospital. She gardens. She knows how to build a house.

She and my great uncle Isaac moved to Frostproof–up in the citrus country–after they retired, and after he passed away, she was joined there by her son Steve and his wife. They live in a separate building behind her house, with a complete wood shop.

My grandfather died when my dad was 11, so I never knew him, but he was one of her favorite people, so she takes a great interest in me and my father. She was excited to meet me, and I guess she had been waiting to meet me for over four decades, and I didn’t even know who she was.

So anyway, she invited us up there for another visit this year, and we just went.

I can’t tell you what a strange experience it is to talk to these people. She has three kids. One is a writer. Another is a mechanical engineer. Another sings in the chorus of a major orchestra; her husband was in the horn section before he retired. The writer does metalworking and restores cars. The ME is a woodworker, and he cooks. The singer has–no joke–a 28-year-old African grey, plus three other parrots.

If you know me at all, you understand how odd this is. I am like no one in my mother’s family. Not in my interests, at least. I am a writer. I studied physics in college and graduate school. I am fascinated by music and tools. I wrote a cookbook. And of course, I have an African grey and a cockatoo. It’s crazy, how much I have in common with these cousins.

We got up there yesterday at around 1:30, I think, and she kept us up until nearly midnight. I almost had to beg to be allowed to drive to the motel to sleep. We returned at maybe 9:30 a.m., and she was still going full-throttle when we left at 4:30.

It’s amazing, watching her talk. All around her, younger people are sitting still. While she talks, she gestures constantly with the cane her kids make her carry. She grabs things absent-mindedly and handles them while she talks. She takes people by the arm or wrist and squeezes forcefully while she makes points. This afternoon, she dropped her cane, and she bent down and got it off the floor before I could.

Steve showed me his wood shop. It broke my heart. He built his own cyclone dust collector. He has a magnificent PVC system running all over the ceiling. It goes to a shiny new Grizzly bandsaw, a Ridgid planer, a Craftsman radial arm saw, a Craftsman contractor table saw with homemade router insert, an ancient drill press, and a spinning table housing a lathe, a grinder, and a miter saw. When you turn a crank, the miter saw disappears and the lathe pops up. And he has a 225-amp stick welder in the corner. Someone gave him a bunch of rough live oak boards, and they’re piled near the door.

The walls are covered with clamps and gouges and chisels. All hanging within easy reach.

His grandsons were visiting, and they were working on projects with him. What a great thing to share with your kids and grandkids.

Gladys showed me photos of their house in Indiana (like a lot of educated people from Eastern Kentucky, they had to leave in order to succeed). They bought a seedy-looking frame house, added a third to its width, put a columned porch on the front, and put a three-acre lake behind it. When they got done with it, it was as if they had rebuilt it from the ground up.

All day long, I kept thinking, “This is what you can achieve when your family isn’t dysfunctional.” When a man and his wife are a team, and they treat each other with love and respect, and they share interests, nothing is impossible. Your careers go well, your kids turn out well, and your home will be something you are proud to show off. I can’t imagine what it must be like to live like that. It was inspiring.

I got some pointers from Steve. He thinks my next tool buy should be a planer. He thinks it’s more important than a jointer. And I love that homemade cyclone. He says the explosion risk is nil, because the velocity is too low. He showed me a neat trick for cleaning the air, apart from the cyclone. He put an air conditioner filter on a box fan. As the air in the shop goes through it, the dust stays in the filter.

Some people do the things they dream about, and others sit on their butts and watch. I would really like to give woodworking a try before I die. I’m sure I could make some small doodads that would bring me great satisfaction.

Sorry I didn’t announce that I was going. I think it’s stupid to put a message on the Internet, telling the world your house is empty.

In other news, I am planning to change my domain and URL. I am tired of “Hog on Ice.” A hog on ice is a person who is unteachable and determined to continue repeating his mistakes. That’s what the expression means. That’s not me any more. Maybe tomorrow I’ll get the new URL working.

I’m going to Google real estate in Central Florida. I can’t stand it. Miami is crowded, hot, and full of rude people. I am sick of it. I really don’t understand what people see in this place.

There is a reason for all this. I am telling you, there is a reason. My life is just not the same these days.