The first shot at a workbench sat dormant for a fair while. Meanwhile it got cold—very very cold. Then it got wet—very very wet. Then it got hot—very very hot. And how did my nice, carefully chosen unwarped 1" planks look after that? A pretty sorry state. Even the laminated legs had moved slightly (next time for lamination I need more glue). Then I discovered that I could get 6x2s from MKM building supplies. I rang to ask about stock and he checked—‘yes, I’ve got 3,500m in stock at the moment’. Madly I decided to take the trolley out again. Very madly, as MKM deliver for free, and if you plead with them they will select vaguely straight timber for you. Instead of which I lugged this lot home:
it was blowing a gale (alright ‘gusting 4’) and we had some hairy moments, but we made it. First thing was to make somewhere to store tools:
OSB is horrible stuff, but it’s cheap and takes nails well. I do not actually remember where this board came from, but I think it was dragged horribly back on a trolley like everything else. Then it was a matter of squaring up some stock and making the cross pieces.
Pared to fit precisely, dry assembled, scored and cut; and then glued and nailed:
The top cross piece had, I think, to be ripped to 6" from an 8" plank, which is rather hard work, particularly without a proper bench or the a decent ripsaw. But with the £5 construction site saw we got there. There are two runners on top of the legs:
all glued together it’s a substantial frame:
Then the long side aprons could be planed square and flat (where the joints will be, and for the vice, but left rough elsewhere), the slots cut and the whole thing trial assembled:
And then, of course, planed flat all over. I was using small wedges to keep the whole thing flat (by eye) on the patio, and the apron is merely push fitted.
At this point the bench is a useable (and very heavy) table:
The next day, the same thing can be repeated, and the whole thing planed flat by eye:
And the next day, the cross pieces which try to stop the whole thing bouncing around:
And here it is, in situ, with the top unfinished:
Motivational Training
I have no photos of the rest of the construction until (most of) the top was on. The reason for this is that at the time I was trying to get married. This was made difficult by the sudden discovery that the plague was causing an epidemic of bigamous marriages (or something of the kind), to counter which it was necessary to close down all the registry offices whilst insisting on giving a month’s notice before getting married. For good measure they closed the churches as well, so even if one had given notice there was nowhere actually to get married.
The reasoning was very simple, and very logical. In normal times a notice is pinned up to a board in a building nobody every goes near, and this qualifies as informing the community of impending nuptials in order that any trifling objections (but she’s still married to me!) can be sorted out before the ‘I object’ (which is of course only found in the Prayer Book service anyhow: Catholics are not allowed to object). Since the Plague was causing such a spate of such marriages, a compromise position was eventually reached: notices could be given and pinned up in a building, but nobody was allowed actually to enter the building in question, for fear of contracting a bigamous marriage in the process.
This solution, which was reached by a great art of bureaucratic endeavour, owed nothing to the mornings spent pleading, arguing, insisting and generally bothering the notary local. Indeed Providence simply arranged things; such that after a particularly long and insistent conversation I was assured that nothing would be possible for at least a month; and that afternoon they rang to arrange an appointment. But after such mornings one was in such a temper the only thing to do was to go and plane great amounts off the great planks until everything was square. But I was in no mood for photographs, and there are none, until the bench was put to use building wedding furniture in the mad week before the thing itself. But that’s another post.
