Wednesday Woodworking – This is a Test

I did it, made a picture frame that worked. I decided to just do this as a test and grabbed some scrap wood and started cutting.  It didn’t take too long and here it is, my test picture frame:

Made this from some old 1x2s I had in the scrap pile.

Made this from some old 1x2s I had in the scrap pile.

It’s a small frame, 10×10 inches on the inside to fit a 10×10 oil paint canvas like this:

A canvas for oil painting.

A canvas for oil painting.

And now the canvas in the frame:

Canvas in frame. Exciting!

Canvas in frame. Exciting!

Everyone has an old jar on their workbench.  It just what woodworkers do.

Now here is how we clamp the frame up:

Square clamp.

Square clamp.

I’ve bought a few of these and this one works out well.  I am going to replace the wingnut with something else as you can see I needed my channel locks to tighten the clamp.  There’s got to be a better way.

This frame was sanded and given to Heather.  She’ll paint it and use it for one of her small pictures.  I went through my wood pile and I’ll have to get some nicer wood in stock for my next frame.  There is one more jig I want to make – more on that next week.

And now a little mystery for next few months.  I just received this order of wood for my Christmas workshop plans:

Yes, it's a pile of fancy hardwoods.

Yes, it’s a pile of fancy hardwoods.

Yes, I plan on making all my Christmas gifts this year, plus I’ve got a couple of wedding gifts to make for the year.  I know what you’re thinking, “It’s March on Tuesday, aren’t you leaving it a bit late?”  Well, we’ll see.

It you need me – I’ll be in the shop,

Andrew

Posted in woodworking | Tagged , | 44 Comments

How to Help a Cancer Victim

How to Help a Cancer Victim

First understand:
we’re confused,
we’re angry,
we’re stunned,
we’re overwhelmed,
we don’t know what we need.

Know you can’t fix it.
Know we’ve heard a lot to be frightened of.
Know we’re fragile.
We just want to be normal again.

I know you want to help.
I know you want to comfort.
I know you fear for me.
I know.

Don’t be surprised if I respond with anger.
Don’t be surprised if I respond with silence.
Don’t be surprised if I respond with a joke.
Don’t be surprised.

Some pain is in the body.
Some pain is in the mind.
Some pain damages the soul.

Help me.
I wish to be normal again.
I wish to talk to you like we once did.
I want to hear of your family,
of the dog, the cat, the car and your crazy Aunt Sally.

Call me, text me, email me,
do normal things with me.
A cup of coffee, a day on the beach,
a trip to the store, a hug for your old friend.


I am not writing this week as I focus my writing time on finishing editing my poetry book.  Instead I offer the above poem from the collection I am working on.

Till next week,

Andrew

Posted in Poems, Prostate Cancer | Tagged , , , | 38 Comments

Friday Wisdom – Success

“If at first you do succeed, try not to look astonished.”

Not sure where I first heard this one, but I like it and often use it at work. In the tech world things rarely go right the first time you try something, so the trick to looking like a pro is have an attitude like, “Of course it worked, it was me doing the work.”

More wisdom next week,

Andrew

Posted in General | Tagged , , | 24 Comments

Wednesday Poetry – Memories

I’ve been in the workshop, but mostly clean up, tweaks on my miter jig and a total failure to make a picture frame.  I completely messed up on my measurements and have to start again on the frame. So today I have no pictures to show.

But, I’ve been editing my poetry book and wrote this new poem that I’ll share today instead of shop stuff:

Memories

A first kiss so long ago.
Darkness, cold and long hair.
Awkward lips and silence on the radio.

The weight of silence,
places a hand on face.
A smile, a glance down.
A good night promise to call.

Car filled with friends.
Music from the radio.
Lifts cares away,
as a day at the beach gives way,

To memories.

Faded clarity,
In a small apartment near the University,
Siting on the floor,
“Blackbird” on the turntable.
Even then the melody haunted my past.
Looking in her eyes, I knew.

Wandering through the past,
ghosts smile back.
Sweet sorrow of forgotten songs.
“Dream Weaver.”
“John B.”

Struggling for words,
for anything that might,
maybe,
show the feeling of the music,
and the memories.


If you need me – I’ll be in the shop

Andrew

Posted in Poems | Tagged , , , | 23 Comments