Roominations

Monday, May 31, 2010

More @#$#%&* firewood

Phase I — August 2008: Collect underpants

My design approach for Casa de Roo seems to be following the philosophy of the “Underpants Gnomes” in South Park.

Their business plan:
Phase I: Collect underpants
Phase II: ???
Phase III: Profit!

For example, in July 2008, I insisted the crew save the pine pole that had helped support the house because I planned to use it, “somehow.” (And I did! In 2010. See, “Downstairs transformation: @#$#%&* firewood.”)

After spending time with the chickens and other critters at the New Jersey State Fair in Sussex County on August 3, 2008, I saw the Wood Mizer booth. In it was not only equipment to turn trees into plainsawn lumber, but the lumber itself—boards that still retained the look of the tree from which they came.

Matt tried to distract me with a yummy lobster roll. Sated, I scurried into the booth to ask the nice man about the luxurious lumber.

For sale?
Yes.
How much?
Fifty bucks. For black walnut.

I went over to the board that first caught my eye. It was an inch-and-a-half thick, 70 inches long and 21 inches wide. Sold!

And Matt was not happy!

In my myopia, I only saw beautiful wood. And I wanted it.

Matt saw only the challenge of getting said slab of wood into his truck at noon, just as traffic was backing up for miles. To avoid getting stuck for hours, we went the wrong way down a one-way street, cut across a restricted parking area, squeezed between parked cars and splashed through mud.

The board fit perfectly into the back of the truck and off we went. It was a quiet ride. And a teary, mediocre lunch that cost about what I paid for the wood.

Not only were we already living in home renovation chaos, I had just introduced another piece of very large clutter. And unlike the front door that was in the guest bedroom with its sidelight in the master bedroom, and the hot tub on the driveway with the its heater in the storage unit, this item has no predetermined purpose, no raison d’être

And I’d already screwed it up.

The Wood Mizer guy was very clear: Seal the edges with wax or the wood will crack because the exposed ends will dry faster than the middle. Instead, I dabbed Old English Lemon Oil on the edges, ignoring the fact that the label failed to contain the word “wax.” Within a week, the wood cracked.

Master Bedroom, August 4, 2008: Nice piece of wood!

Living Room, Behind Couch, August 9, 2008:
Small cracks become larger, since I failed
to properly treat the ends of the slab.

Into the utility room I went on August 9, unstacking, opening and rifling through boxes until I found the Howard Feed-n-Wax wood preserver and liberally painted it onto the ends and into the growing cracks. On August 17, I flipped the board to seal the cracks on the other side. I then set the slab aside to cure for the recommended two-plus months. (Or so I thought.)

Phase II — August 2008–May 2010: ???

What has the slab of wood been since we brought it home? In the way.

August 2008: Under the futon in the guest bedroom.
March 2009: In the evolving screen porch.
From there we moved the slab into the front
shed, where it resided until May 2010.

Phase III —May 16–29, 2010: Profit!

At last: It was time to turn the American black walnut slab into a table.

On Sunday, May 16, 2010, we placed the freeform
slab in front of our house. And thus the project began.

In my mind’s eye was the work of legendary woodworker George Nakashima (and also his daughter, Mira).

Matt gets the project started off right with his
understanding of geometry and trusty cordless circular saw.

Luckily, Matt knew just what to do. First, he determined how much of the damaged wood needed to go. Then, he squared off the table—no easy feat given its natural flitch edge. The wood was now 66 inches long, 19.5 inches at the widest end, 17 inches in the middle and 14 inches at the narrow end.

Now it was my turn. I got out my orbital sander and first removed the remaining bark. My 80-grit sandpaper was no match for this hardwood, necessitating a trip to Home Depot for 40 and 60 grit disks.

A cracked area kept catching and dislocating the
sanding disks, so I filled it with wood putty.
Days later, we disguised the patch with walnut stain.

In all, I spent an estimated four hours sanding before it was time to apply the same tung oil finish we used on the daybed in the porch.

With its wax and oil mix, the finish was fairly simple to apply and keep applying until the wood seemed saturated.

May 22, 2010: A quick look from the deck down at the
in-progress tabletop before I go to screw up the finish.

My plan on May 22 was to coat the flip side of the slab in tung oil. But I did not wait long enough for the finish to dry, let alone cure, before I flipped the wood over again. And I did not consider the oily wax would seep onto what would be the top of the table.

Sanding the top created a mud comprised of sawdust, wax, oil, small insects and plant matter provided by the windy backyard. I had pretty much ruined the finish. It took two-plus hours of rubbing and sanding to remove the mess. This was not an enjoyable process and my stress level was not low.

Matt had not been happy with the waxy look of the table anyway, and used this setback as an opportunity to upgrade the project to a high-gloss tung oil finish. Then I was not happy, because the wax-free oil was much harder to work with and took me three coats to figure out.

After work on Tuesday, May 25, 2010, I applied another
coat of high-gloss tung oil, working in the backyard shed.
The beauty of the wood was starting to shine through.

The end result was beautiful. Like usual, Matt was right.

Last step: Legs. We considered various options, and I even thought large wheels would be kinda cool. But nothing seemed right. Then I had an “ah-ah” moment and grabbed the spring edition of Atomic Ranch off my nightstand. I pointed at the ad for hairpin legs. “That is it,” we agreed!

The legs from the aptly named Hairpinlegs.com,
made in Hilliard, Ohio, arrived on May 26, 2010.

May 28, 2010: Matt adds a mending plate to the underside
of the table to prevent futher cracking. Then he figures out
how to place the legs so the free-form table looks balanced.

We attach the legs on Friday, May 28, in honor of the 16th anniversary of the blind date that turned us instantly into a couple. And then I applied the final coat of tung oil.

We selected the sturdy three-rod hairpin legs
with the brushed stainless steel finish.

Just in time for very first party in the porch, we move the table into place in front of the daybed we made and prepare to greet Tiffiny and Jerry at our door.



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3 Comments:

  • Suh-weet!!! A great bit of teamwork and a good eye on your part!

    By Blogger Shannon, at 9:08 PM  

  • I've been wandering around for the past couple of weeks. You know helping people out with towel safety and proper towel use. It's important.

    By Anonymous Towelie, at 11:42 AM  

  • That table you made is gorgeous! Seriously, I think it's a piece of artwork. You have real vision when it comes to interior design. By the way: I enjoyed the retrospective you did of the various places where the slab of wood lived over the past two years. :-)

    As far as the crack in the wood goes, I like it: I think it adds character and visual interest. Even George Nakashima's furniture includes knots and splits for the same reason. You picked a beautiful board to begin with; then you really did it justice.

    It's great that you describe how the finish got all messed up at one point; because we've *all* been there, where it feels like a project in which you've invested so much time and thought might be ruined; and it can be completely soul-crushing. But you showed the importance of perseverance. The end result is simply fantastic! And it looks terrific in your back porch.

    You and Matt are quite a team (not that that's news to anyone).

    P.S. Not only were the table legs a great choice, they came from Hilliard, Ohio! Thanks for supporting our local economy. :-)

    By Anonymous The Foz, at 1:58 PM  

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