| Once upon a time ... (I seem to start a number of my narrations with that don't I? ... Does it indicate a desire to regress to childhood, do you suppose? ... Or maybe I just never progressed beyond that stage developmentally.) So anyway ... there was this porch table. It was a GREAT porch table, and I had built it myself and I was VERY proud of it, and it had even remained standing through several spaghetti dinners that included red wine. If a table is going to collapse due to poor construction, that's when it is most likely to happen since it is the best opportunity for the Gods of Carpentry Mischief to create a permanent Rorschach design on everyone's clothes, and because a good red sauce well distributed around the porch can make it look like someone slaughtered a pig out there. So I took its continued upright posture as a good omen. |
| But then one day, I got some new porch furniture (made of PLASTIC, by the way ... not real wicker), and the porch began to get a little crowded. I didn't really think it was all that crowded, but I was having some trouble getting everything to fit and to look nice out there, so a more alert person probably could have diagnosed the problem. No such luck in my case. (Sometimes I can be raaaaaather oblivious to things that are going on right under my nose.) |
| So I went on tripping over furniture until I needed to stash my diningroom table out on the porch for a short length of time and had a EUREKA!!! moment. "Yo! Doofus-head ... You need a smaller table!" So I donated my very nice, home-made trestle table to my parents (who somehow managed to make the normally 3-hour drive over here in about 10 minutes after I asked them, "Would you like my porch table?") and decided to make a new one. The table in the picture to the right is part of a set, which is why it will not become a permanent porch table. So after all this jabbering, this is where the story really begins. |
| Step 1. Go down to the workshop in the cellar. With something like this at the bottom of the stairs, you would think that I wouldn't procrastinate. It HELPS, but I still tend to avoid working on workshop projects. |
| Step 2. Gather the appropriate tools. ("Oh, GOD!!! Not that Farscape thing AGAIN!!" the non-Scapers scream with dismay.) |
| All the pieces are gathered and allowed to acclimate to the temperature and humidity in the cellar. To finally get just a little serious ... I decided to build a table with four legs this time. The biggest advantage with a legged table is that since it will be a smaller than the one I'm replacing, more people will be able to sit at this table without ramming their kneecaps into the cross-brace on the trestle design. I would love to say I built everything myself, but I do not have the jig to cut tapered legs (and decided I didn't want to spend the time or money to either build or buy one), and I have a number of other interests that come before doing this type of mortise and tenon work. So I cheated and BOUGHT the legs and apron pieces from a local Vermont business that turns these out. |
| Layout ... also known as "picky, annoying work". This step involves marking all the "bad" spots on the boards for the table top, choosing a 'top' versus a 'bottom' side, and then swapping the boards around 482 billion times until the grain is arranged in a manner that will best camoflage the seams. There are SIX boards there, and as the picture shows, the two on the right are very well matched up. This step is not as critical if you are intelligent enough to paint the table, instead of staining it as I intend to. |
| Glue up of the first 3 boards. I use the saw table for the simple reason that it is flat and stable, and at this point everything will fit on it. |
| The porch is enclosed (not heated) in the winter. However, it is NOT enclosed from about May through October, during which time the table will take an enormous amount of weather. So I choose to use 'biscuits' to join the boards. The slots are cut with a router with a special bit. |
| They look insubstantial, but the biscuits soak up moisture from the glue and swell inside the slots. Even though the boards will be glued from end to end, the biscuits are incredibly strong and will help prevent splitting and warping along the seams. |
| While the top is getting put together, the legs and apron pieces get stained. |
The Sawdust Factory. On the left, the second half of the table top is glued and clamped. In the back, the stained bits are drying. And over on the right on the workbench, I've begun a bit of sanding on the first half of the table top. |
| The two halves of the table top get glued together. |
| Table base, now stained, gets glued together. |
| Once this is completed, the top will get propped in a corner for the winter. Come spring, the end pieces will get trimmed, and the entire table will be stained and sealed with about 6 coats of urethane. The reason I will wait to do the final bit of cutting is because although this is fairly nice maple, it is CHEAP wood, and I expect it to contract and shrink over the next several months. |
| Work resumes at long last. The corners have been trimmed, and the top has been sanded. |
| Staining the top. It goes on looking VERY orange. It will wind up looking like the legs and apron in the background. |
| Ready for polyurethane (since this is going to sit out on the porch in all sorts of summer weather). |
