Or play with my curve balls. Or something.
I will be at the Curve show the next two days. That is where we order lingerie and bras and what not. I have to sit there while models show us the bras and stuff we are going to purchase.
This year we decided to open up our inventory to all sizes not just plus. You see the girls who come into the store because of the bras we have in the window. So we are going to have stuff to sell.
Then we have a huge meeting on Wednesday which is very important.
So I have to let Doc and Joey hang out for a while without me. Sorry.
59 comments:
My first jack off material was Sears catalogue bra sections.
I have to sit there while models show us the bras
If the model in the pic is at all representative, you'd better get your pacemaker checked out thoroughly before you go.
Somebody has to look at bras. Its sad it had to be you.
May the force be with you.
Enjoy the sails pitch, Troop!
You do wear white don't you?
Another day slaving away at work...still, someone has to do it!
Sale... Sails... Soil
You can usually pick up some good pointers at functions like those.
Tips on greasing the wheels of industry.
Troop granulated from Murry Bergtraum HS for Business Career - you can tell buy how he rites.
Trooper will be modeling the mansiere he and his bride created.
The tarot cards see no good coming out of the move from exclusively plus sizes to ALL sizes.
Enzio Pinza agrees: "Once you have found niche never let it go. NE-VER LET IT G-O-O-O."
The tarot cards see no good coming out of the move from exclusively plus sizes to ALL sizes.
When he started talking about downsizing and renting additional space, I was picturing less in the way of bras and undies.
Ezio Pinza was a great singer. I would not leave career decisions up to someone who wrote lyrics to a song he sung.
Troopski may appear to be an idiot around here, but he married well. Lisa has talent and I think that, combined with Jamesey's accounting skills will result in even greater business successes for them.
So follow your dreams, you crazy dreamer, be confident and even in the most difficult business you can succeed.
I would hoist a shot of single malt in your honor, you whacky kids, but I need to rest.
Never fear dear amigo Sixty. I have stepped in and on your behalf have hoisted and consumed a shot of Scotland's gift to the world.
Happy to oblige.
Thanks, Haz.
No one asked, but since Troop has gone missing, let me tell a story.
I took my dogs for a walk this morning, as I do many mornings. It was warmish, sun was shining, it was a beautiful day in the neighborhood.
As I crested a hill I could hear a chipper running - not unusual as some development is being done about a half mile down the road - but this was right here in River City! Dang!
As we drew nearer, we could see a skid steer being used to move brush to the ground crew who were then feeding the chipper. The smell of diesel exhaust hung in the air. The branches were fed into the maw, the machine lugged down, and the fresh chips spewed into the bed of the main truck.
One of my dogs does not like loud noises, so we didn't get too close to the operation, but I did walk around the log truck, trying to see what was being sawed. Hmm - looks like hackberry. Nice.
The Bobcat operator saw me looking at the logs and drove over to us. "You want some of those? I gotta get rid of them."
"I might - is that hackberry?"
"I think so, but my crew is laughing at me for using such a funny word for a tree."
They are from south of the border, and not used to abolitas del norte.
I looked behind a newly built house and saw the trunk of the tree standing there - pretty good size, a rope on the top to pull it over, and there you go - one less hackberry and one less piece of evidence of the homestead that was once where that revolting development now sprouted.
"I'm a woodworker, I might be interested in some of the big end of the log" says I.
"How about two eight foot sections - I can deliver them with my Bobcat" says he.
Hmm, that's a bit much "I'll take one eight foot section."
"Okay - where are you?"
"Over the hill, straight down the road - I'll meet you over there."
I finished walking the dogs, put them inside, and ere long the sound of a straining machine could be heard - yep - here comes a Bobcat with a log in its jaws.
I opened the gate to the compound, showed him where to place the log, he dumped it off, and after a thank you, best of luck, and a couple of good days, he took off back to the job site.
I had sharpened my saw last week, so I figured it was ready to go. It wasn't. I fired it up, released the chain brake, nothing. Well, that's unusual. I have had a clutch fail on a saw, but that was a different symptom. The chain was just frozen in place. That's not good.
So I start debugging the saw - remove the side cover, check to see that the chain is still seated properly in the drive pulley - yep, that's good. I remove the bar - hmm the chain is stuck in the groove it runs in. Never saw that before.
Pull it out - it's a simple thing - a metal bar with a groove the chain runs in. Sure, everything is gunked up with oily chips, but it's a tough environment. Clean all of that up - then think - what about that pulley wheel down at the far end of the bar?
Well what do you know - that sumbitch is frozen solid. Definitely a new one on me. The bar is riveted together in that area - not much a shade tree mechanic can do with that. How about if I pry it apart a bit and get some oil down in the works there. A bit of fussing and oiling with the bar in a vise and what do you know, the pulley now rotates. I carefully reassemble the bar, chain, side cover, chain catcher and bolt it all up nicely - there you go - the saw starts, the chain moves. All is as it should be.
That was the easy part - I figured there would be some metal in the log, as it was an old farm site, and sure enough, some rusty fence wire was sticking out of the log. Not good. I got out my metal detector and tried to figure out the extents of the tramp metal.
I was able to saw three large rounds off the small end of the log - the end farthest from the ground, and then rip them in half lengthwise to make bowl blanks.
The next cut I hit metal. I had guessed incorrectly about the location of the wire inside the log.
After some struggle I was able to complete the cut, chain and bar were smoking in the cut - that's never good. I was able to break the last little bit that was holding the two pieces together and assess the extent of the metal I had sawed and think about the next cut.
I had plenty of time to think as it takes about a half hour to sharpen the saw, and while you might think that after 40 years I could sharpen a saw, well, I want it to be sharp, and that cannot be achieved with haste.
So, with phonic interruptions, dogs barking and needing to be shushed, I set about making the next cut.
Mind you, these chunks of wood are heavy. I am using my cant hook to roll the log around, trying to get it up on some scraps to give me some room between the log and the ground, and the saw itself weighs about 1 million pounds (slight exaggeration, but some days it feels like that), and I manage to make the next cut. Hmm - smoke and sparks - you know what, the butt end of this log is shot through with metal. No bowls from you!
By then it was getting cool and I was getting tired, so I figured that the seven blanks I had already cut would be about it for today.
That left me with a three foot section that probably weighs 500 pounds to deal with. Also, have a section that is another 150 pounds or so. I rolled/flopped the non-round piece over to the fire pit, tossed the slabs in, too, then rolled the big chunk over next to the pit. I won't do anything hasty - perhaps with a wedge and sledge I can free some usable wood from its wire-bound state, but that can wait for another day.
Some of you, those of you who are not bored to tears by my ramblings so far, might wonder what hackberry wood looks like.
Well, it is a bland, almost featureless wood, no dramatic grain, I guess kind of a light brown color - it's the opposite of walnut in terms of rich color, just sayin', and it is really kind of bland.
So, why all that effort for bland bowls you ask? Because it was there.
All snideness aside, it will make some very nice old style salad bowls - good diameter, low, just a gentle sweep up from a flat base to an unadorned rim. I have a good idea of what at least six of those seven bowls will look like before I turn even one.
All that remains is to turn them, dry them and avoid cracking, sand them, then sell them. By 2015 they should be on my table, allowing me to share this tall tale with anyone willing to listen.
You'll make seven bowls but a lot of other stuff as well I'm guessing out of 650 pounds of wood!
Haz and AllenS could probably appreciate your story more than me since they could understand the actual problems you faced and how you dealt with them. chick too most likely. And windbag. And spinelli. And Evi. All dem guys. Me? I like the woody prose. So much better than tinny ooh tinny ooh tinny tinny prose.....
I have to sit there while models show us the bras
It's a bitter cup.
♫ Why don't you build me up, bittercup...♫
♫ Why don't you build me up, bittercup...♫
Great song by the...Foundations.
Goes to show there's a place for a serial story after all. Though I'm still flumoxed as to why two eight foot Bob-cat-delivered sections wouldn't be better than one. Especially one partially ruined with metal. That's the part of me that drives MrM nuts. If one is good, two is better. Still, seven blanks/bowls out of nothing is a good haul. Plus, you didn't kill yourself with all the sawing and wrangling. Favorite part of the story, "I have a good idea of what at least six of those seven bowls will look like before I turn even one. That and the serendipity ("fortuitous happenstance" or "pleasant surprise") involved with the ears finding the wood and the wood finding a home and the bowls-to-be finding a story to accompany them to a table somewhere, someday. Good stuff!
This place is going to be desolate come Wed. Moar Stories Sixty! Someone needs to fan the flames while Trooper tests his pacemaker.
I'm heading off to TN for another round of woodcarving before the instructor retires. I'll be trying my own design this time, a shepherd holding a lamb. I've been practicing with St Francis, and reached the point with the fifth one where the figure no longer looked anorexic from overcarving, and the rabbit in his arms nestles rather than looking ready to spring. Time spent watching the Olympics resulted in four sleeping cats and two sheep, so I'm getting more confident. If this new project doesn't work, I'll go back to cats for a while. They're trickier than they appear.
I feel like I was just listening to Norm Abrams talking about biscuits. That guy loved glue and biscuits. I prefer honey and buttermilk biscuits.
Talk of biscuits fits within the foundational theme set forth by TY.
Joinery is the ultimate woodworking problem.
I use biscuits, pocket screws, dominoes, pegs, mortices avec tenons, just plain screws, nails, dadoes, stop dadoes, stepped pegs, butt joints, and sometimes just plain gravity.
Sublimate, sublimate!
Norm loves dadoes also. I know NOTHING about woodworking but was a fan of his show. I love watching people doing something they love. He clearly LOVES his craft, as do you.
St. Norm is the man.
I have never met him, but I met his home boy Tawmy Silva twice - funny guy, great woodworker, carpenter and house builder.
I am grateful that I can do what I enjoy.
Some of us like to make things, some of us like to destroy things. Some, just like to watch.
I am a professional watcher, Sixty. Tommy Silva is your classic New England tradesman. I bet he goes to Dunkin Donut every morning, has a couple shots and beers after work, and loves "chowda."
The whole lot of 'em are chowda heads. They like lobsta, too. They even have clam bakes on their show - using old pallets as firewood.
I much as I dislike Y*nkees, I do respect and admire thriftiness.
Welcome once again to the South, MamaM. The weather has been stellar the past few days. 60s and sunny. Upcoming days into the weekend look like sunny, but only in the 50s. Regardless, eastern TN is some of the most beautiful landscape to behold.
Meet Cherie Currie, chainsaw carving artist.
She's got an interesting bio too, with a biopic even.
She does good work.
It's sad that when one wears a bandana one has to declare "I am not a gang member" - we have really sunk pretty darned low as a country if that has to be stated.
But I would join her gang in a minute!
Here's one for you Trooper....
http://evgrieve.com/2014/02/one-way-for-your-apartment-to-smell.html
I was hoping that MamaM would see that Cherie Currie link but it looks like she headed for the hills.
Just about every small town in northern Wisconsin has someone who uses chainsaws to carves bears out of wood. Every art fair has bear carvers selling carved bears. Every parade has a guy on a hay wagon carving a bear. Heck, I've got two of the things in my cabin, gifts left by relatives who thought I needed carved bears.
Now a carved bear sitting on a carved chair at a carved table eating a carved salad out of a perfectly turned walnut burl bowl, that'd be special.
I don 't see what's so great about this Currie's work. She takes a block of wood, puts some nicks in it to indicated bear paws and a bear face, rounds off the corners and voila, a bear. Do I see a running or walking bear? No. Do I see a standing bear, not even reaching just standing? No. Do I see a bear with any kind of movement indicated, period? No. Why? Because she's incapable of anything beyond a frozen block bear. I could do the same. Well...in balsa wood.
Post a picture, ricpic - the world needs more wooden bears.
Can't post picture. Computer illiterate. :^/ But a big talker. ;^)
No prob, my fellow woodworker.
A cheerful little ditty for all of us who miss Boston.
Stopped off at the grocery store on the way home. Wandered over to the produce section and decided to check out the melons. There are various theories and preferences on selecting the best melons. Squeezing them gently to gauge firmness and ripeness is a must. Some people like to give them a light thump, but you have to be careful not to thump too hard or you might bruise the fruit. I'm not too picky about the color, but some people are. Bottom line is, until you peel them and expose the luscious meaty center, it's somewhat of a mystery.
Produce is a crap shoot.
All In
Produce is a crap shoot.
Meat is hard to judge.
Oil can turn out rancid.
Wine uncorked be sludge.
Pepperoni pizza.
Deep fried onion rings.
Truly liberating.
Honest killer things.
I do woodwork for a living, but I don't use a chainsaw.
Great article, Tim - how about you, workin' with a true Dalbergia - that rocks.
Those are not large trees - what size blocks do you start with? I guess what I am getting at, is what is available on the timber market - unlike the hackberry I sawed up this week, Blackwood doesn't grow on trees, around here, or, increasingly, anywhere. More's the pity - it looks beautiful.
How is it to work with? Is the dust a problem?
My Russian neighbor had a black cat he named Ebony. When my then girlfriend got a black cat I suggested Mpingo as a name - so Mpingo he was called. Great cat.
The Dalbergia melanoxylon (aka grenadilla or African blackwood) we mostly work with, comes in more-or-less standard sizes for the woodwind trade. The trees are actually pretty large for an exotic. I have a few logs, and they're about 16-24" in diameter. The stuff grows all over the south-central parts of Africa that have a dryish, upland environment. We buy it as turning squares. They're usually 2-3 years old, and dried to "merchantable" moisture content, i.e., around 12-14%, although it's hard to tell, because it's so filled with volatile resin that the usual method of weighing samples, heating them, and weighing again is not accurate. You're driving off a lot of volatiles with the moisture. In theory, we should use pieces at the usual 7-9% M.C., but who can tell? We just age them until they're stable, and I like the way they smell when I start working them.
This stuff is somewhat abrasive and the pores are filled with black resin. That gives it its moisture-resistance, which, of course, we want in woodwinds. It also sticks to tools, which is a pain in the ass. I go through gallons of acetone in the course of a year, removing resin build-up on anything in the shop that cuts wood.
What we have to look for in each piece of wood for these instruments is a long story. Basically, the toneholes have to go on a quartered side. In a flute or piccolo here are two rows of toneholes, and the center of the tree should be toward the player. With a good piece of wood, you can put both rows on a quartered side. Cracking or checking, as you know, tends to occur on the flitch side opposite the center of the tree, so the outer flitch side is oriented toward the outside of flute, away from the keywork. Any curvature should also be towards the player. That's because warpage will tend to jam the mechanism. This is very easy to fix, as opposed to the keys getting loose from the wood bending the wrong way. Anyway, you can imagine the bullets I sweat selecting wood for a $13,000 flute. I've been doing this on a daily basis for 34 years, and it's never easy.
Piccolos are a lot less trouble, but the same things have to be watched for.
We have made a lot of piccolos in Brazilian Kingwood (Dalbergia cearensis). It's great stuff, but what with Dalberbias from Brazil getting too hot for the timber trade, and our stock running low, we're just about done with these. If you go to the Powell Flutes website, there is a picture of a Kingwood piccolo with gold keys that floats by on the opening page.
Our main wood supplier is Prosono International. They are a serious class act. Grenadilla isn't threatened, but the good stuff has been picked over. Prosono does about as well as anyone these days with quality, and they are great to deal with. The linked website is a trove of information.
Anyway, I've gone on enough. Gotta get some sleep!
"I have a good idea of what at least six of those seven bowls will look like before I turn even one. "
Reminds me of what Michelangelo used to say: "Every block of stone has a statue inside it and it is the task of the sculptor to discover it."
Interesting link, Tim, and an even more interesting follow-on comment about how you select the wood used in making a flute. I had no idea how complicated the process is.
TTBurnett .... like Haz says, a fascinating subject. I like it when someone posts topics I know nothing about. An opportunity to learn.
Thank you for posting it...frankly I am a v-e-r-y long time jazz fan but have never given much thought to how wood wind instruments are made. Now I have an idea...and plenty of stuff to look up like flitch side, quartered side, etc...I am saving the links as beginning sources. It's good to prod an old brain like mine now and then. A very nice relief from a life lived with heavy machinery and weapons, not to mention federal bureaucratic politics. Thanks.
Thanks for the information, Tim. That's exactly what I was wondering about.
My father had a collection of one, two and three keyed flutes and clarinets when I was a child, mostly made out of pear wood, with ivory fittings and brass keys, but I never had much of a chance to really get a good look at how they were made.
The idea that the tone holes are on the quartered side makes sense, once a master points it out.
Making a bowl is a simple thing - mostly I decide whether to make my life easy and use the bark, that is to say, already rounded side, as the foot of the bowl, or whether to go crazy and use the pith side for the foot. That takes a good size log and produces enormous piles of chips, but sometimes, it's worth it.
The main consequence of that decision is that with the latter the grain appears to be concentric circles, or ellipses, rather than forming hyperbolas, which is what you get with the former.
Other than that, my work is just barely related to yours - your work is precise, mine is ad hoc. You have to put keys on yours, I apply a bit of mineral oil. Flutes are more than one piece - if my bowl is more than one piece it's because I dropped it and glued it back together, not by design.
Checking? If a bowl cracks from the rim while drying, by golly, I got me a platter! Yeah, not having to meet any standards of design or size or tuning has advantages for a loosey-goosey worker such as me. Just keep turning off the crack until it is gone.
When all else fails, the burn pit beckons.
Because my material is free, other than my labor, there is no great loss when wood moves and checks form. And all you other bowls better be paying attention - let that one in the fire serve as an example to you all - no cracking!
If nothing else, I can sell a cracked, holey, crinkled bowl as "art"! Yeah, that's the ticket.
I can't see those same defects being a feature on a flute.
Oh yeah, one more blah blah blah - a red oak, 6' in diameter at the base, was taken down across the street from my house. I was able to saw quarter sawn pieces over 2' wide out of it. Beautiful stuff, but red oak. It will make some interesting small furniture, but that's about it.
Sixty Grit said...
Making a bowl is a simple thing
Er, no it is not...at least not for me in my high school years, the one and only time I took a woodworking course in the Arts department of a small school I attended. I wound up making a lamp (not a fancy one either) after my attempts at bowls with multiple wood laminates failed spectacularly.
Once burned I never gave wood working another thought until you and Burnett talked about it here. I know squat, so it is fascinating to me now...so thanks to you too.
I am naturally drawn, by my own life's experiences, to subjects like recycling and the machinery & processes involved in it. However, when a wholly new topic is opened up before me I am like a little kid with a new book to read.
Flutes and Bowls each
Form different
Invitations
To see and hear
The pronouncement from the Great Creator covers many forms...and behold, it was very good
How is class going, MamaM?
Thank you guys for this conversation on woodworking and musical instrument making. Fascinating.
The first instrument that I learned to play was a clarinet in elementary school. I never gave a thought as to the artistry that went into the manufacture.
I admire people who have these skills. I don't have the patience for it....but admire yours.
You are welcome, DBQ - when Trooster Cogburn is away the creative class will play. It may be patchy, but it will do.
How is class going, MamaM?
Arrived in time for sunset, with class to start Friday morning. Even with nothing green happening, the Smokey Mountains are still beautiful in shades of mauve and ochre. As usual, I love their layered look. Soft curves too, befitting the topic of the thread.
Left the frozen icebox that was Michigan (single digit temps with a fierce wind blowing snow across the fields and highway) on Wed to cross the Indiana border into an immediately different world of sunshine and diminishing snow cover. Although I've driven the route many times I don't recall experiencing such a marked difference. I felt like I'd been sprung from a trap! After picking MrM up in Cincinnati, we drove through KY and TN to find water dripping off the mountain rocks as if spring were arriving, with temps in the 50's predicted this weekend. Meanwhile it's -6 back home tonight. I'm glad to be here!
Thanks for the Southern welcome windbag! The town is pretty much shut down, but the living is easy and I feel like we go off the grid when we take these trips. It's a good feeling, affirming, expansive and hopeful. And Sixty, that was one fine compare and contrast essay you submitted! A yeoman's job of keeping the blog rolling while Trooper was checking out nipple covers.
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