Time for some East Devon carving

 It's been a while, and I do love it so.

Those East Devon joiners and carvers, whoever they were, made something special 400 years ago.

I was going to re-create one chest from the several that have survived. Looking over them, I realised that apart from the one, this was based on:

there were elements on each, that I was not so keen on. So I decided to scavenge my favourite elements from all of them, and put them into one.

As always there's a few South Devon influences as well. I do live in South Devon, after all.

Spoon post

It's not everyday you are asked, to come and take your pick from a freshly thinned wood, that is almost exclusively cherry. I haven't had any fresh cherry for a fair few years, so to be faced with a cherry woodland on the verge of spring, with piles awaiting selection is a rare treat.

I think I will celebrate, by carving a spoon, for Clare and Nigel, the woodland owners.

Split with the froe, into halves, quarters, billets.

Axe a crank. Sketch an outline. The cherry grain has provided me with a centreline.

Saw down to the line.

Axe to the line. Same with the profile, then out with the knives. Time to catch the last few rays of the sun. Almost Equinox.

And we have a spoon. The first of many, I imagine, given the big pile of cherry logs next to me.

From tree to log to spoon, before the sun went down.

I offered some of the cherry to Mick, but I don't think he wants, to carve a spoon; says it's too much like a religion. That made me smile, I used to do a lot of Buddhist meditation; nowadays carving is my meditation. People do all sorts of things in the name of religion, but I've never heard of anyone doing bad in the name of carving spoons! I do treat my chopping block like an altar, though, I guess.

Door and some hunting and gathering.

 A door in Accoya.

Wedged tenons. Pinned with brass. Fixing the drip, with brass flatheads and my turnscrew. Holding temporarily with the Jorgensens.

Hunted and gathered this new old anvil today. It was a lively beast and took some subduing, but with Mick on the seesaw, we roped it in! 

So, forging ahead with the forging. Bang bang bang.

Angles

Lots of angles in the roof lantern. Basically a miniature hipped roof, with glazing bars instead of rafters.

A temporary structure and tent was placed over the roof lantern, as the work was happening in the middle of winter.

On installation day, a genie lift was used to raise the lantern up in two sections.

Over on to the scaffold tower.

Then slid along, and posted through the 'letterbox' in the tent structure. Over the hole and then the scaffold boards slid out and the lantern fixed down.

The tarpaulin battened back down, for work to continue, in the dry!

New roof lantern for Birdwood House

Birdwood House is a listed building, overlooking Totnes market square. It was originally called Somerset House and was the home of the Babbage family; later to produce Charles, the inventor of the Difference Engine, the first mechanical computer.

The building was refurbished in 2005 to house the Gallery, a venue for art. The art gallery is partially lit by a roof lantern. Unfortunately, the lantern had seen better days, so we were called in to do a restoration of it, starting on the 23rd December last. Listed building consent was acquired by the owners. After stripping the paint back, it was obvious restoration was not possible, and so a new lantern was made, saving and restoring the roll-top cap.

Here it is this morning, complete with anti-bird wire to replace the nasty bird spikes that were there before.

From below.

It has been blanked off for years, because of it's unsightly appearance, but now the possibility of using it to add a vertical element to exhibitions, has been opened up.

 

Something in the air

It must be something in the air. Out looking for birthday presents, I found these books, a stone's throw from St. Mary's in Totnes.

Literally for a song. I would happily have paid, for each page, what I paid for each book. Some things are just meant to be.

The first was right next to the second. A fitting accompaniment, given that my interest in 17th century English furniture, was first piqued, by an exploration of American furniture of the same period.

Cantilevered cupboards.

 Hadley chests.

All the favourites. Nothing else to say.

Chickenopolis

When I'm not stopping buildings falling down, making furniture, carpentry, framing and joinery........I'm doing more carpentry! No, not really. Me and her outdoors, try to be self-sufficient in fruit and vegetables and eggs. She is more green-fingered than I, but it's quite handy that I can build all the infrastructure!

We used to have problems with rodents, until we built Chickenopolis. The raised houses give the chooks somewhere dry to dustbathe, their favourite activity, even in wet weather. It makes them easier to clean out and means the rodents have nowhere to get comfortable; wheelbarrow under the big door, open it and pull out the waste, then off to the compost heap. There is a covered way down the middle; for collecting eggs from the nest boxes, sorting feed out and storing tools. Having a dry space to do it all makes all the difference.

In other news, the new old van is on the road, with new livery.