the Walnut Diary

All fall I’ve scrambled to get things done before the snow came. This has left a workshop crammed with firewood and the tools shoved aside to provide space for ice-covered vehicles. Bags of hardware for various small tasks cluttered every horizontal surface in the shop.

But I hadn’t done enough. The storm last week left snow banks all the way out the lane. Friday I realized that if the wind drifted the driveway full, the tractor couldn’t push it clear with the loader. I’d have to use the snowblower, currently forgotten below the barn in an unplowed area.

The tractor wasn’t about to make it back up the slope to the driveway with the snowblower hanging from the loader, so after a few tries I unchained the implement and tried to hitch it up in the snow where it landed.

Larger and smaller tractors are easy to connect to three-point-hitch implements, but the 35 hp TAFE lacks the extendable hitches of more sophisticated machines, yet is too heavy to push around. Hitch-ups are a big pain, and this one was worse than most. I must learn not to forget the snowblower at the bottom of a hill.

The problem with a fall spent cutting and splitting firewood for winter was that the lack of indoor projects had left the shop stove without any kindling wood. Out of necessity I turned to a jug of used crankcase oil to start my fires. Did you know that synthetic oil will barely burn?

Bemused by the fireproof oil, I posted a question on TractorByNet.com. Responses agreed that synthetic oils have a very high fuming point, so they are slow to ignite. One guy said owners of used-oil furnaces don’t like synthetic.

Locked in the wood-stove loop, I wasn’t getting anything done in the shop. It came down to Martin to clear the helmets, mitts and hardware off the bench with another of his madcap projects. He emailed me a diagram for an oyster shucking board midweek, then came along with Roz and Charlie on Saturday to build it while they finished the paint in the new garage.

Imagine a sturdy cutting board with a strong ledge on the bottom to butt against a counter top, and another shaped lip against which to jam an oyster. The area below the oyster is hollowed out to provide a convenient place to plunk the victim. While the board would face rough use from abrasive oyster shells, it should look good, as most of its time in Kingston it would be a kitchen decoration.

We settled on a thick cherry board with walnut cross-pieces and pinned mortises. Martin had a great time with the mortiser built long ago by the Cawley brothers in Westport, then found how versatile a band saw can be for cutting large tenons. By the time he had finished the second lip to hold the oysters (he discovered curved, angle cuts on the band saw) the completed board looked nothing like the sketch, but we both figured it would work.

It turned out Martin had a reason to build the board at this time. This week he defended his Ph.D. thesis in biology at Queen’s and is now Dr. Martin Mallet. In celebration his father sent him a case of fresh oysters from the family seafood operation in New Brunswick. Unfortunately the package disappeared from the front step of their home on Sydenham Street soon after the courier dropped it off. ARGH!

Anyway, the workshop had been jolted back into operation and I’d noticed my mother using an unsightly metal stand to hold her telephone. I found a nicely figured walnut board and a likely piece of plank to build her a phone table. The woodworking tools slid back into place. The only problem was the woodpile encroaching on the tenon cutter, so I hauled enough blocks out of the way to allow it to function.

Motors sang and sawdust filled the air. It was fun building the little table. Mortises and tenons cut beautifully in black walnut. It truly is the king of furniture woods.

Everything went fine until the sanding stage. Turns out I am running out of pads for the random orbital sander. It’s hard to go from 50 grit to 220, even with black walnut.

With the outside work as complete as it’s going to get until the snow goes, it’s time to stock up on sandpaper and make sawdust in the shop for the rest of the winter. It isn’t good to run out of scrap for kindling wood.