In praise of tarpaulins.

Devon is a wet place. External timber suffers. Sometimes it needs replacement, sometimes repair. This roof was letting in water and the timbers rotten, so replacement with new chestnut purlins. We had just finished for the day and got it covered, when the first raindrops fell. Useful for the next morning, to be able to keep working, under. Hail tarpaulins!

Here's one we fixed earlier. This box sash was about as bad as it gets before complete replacement is necessary. We always try to save as much historic fabric as possible. This window (and wall it is in) has always been up against it, the ground outside is 4ft up the side of the house. The wall/window have to deal with penetrating damp AND runoff from the concrete ground surface outside. It's not possible to lower the ground level as it's public. We replaced the cill, half the inner face of the boxes and the cheeks. A new sash, added a lb. or two to the weights, new cords and brushed parting beads. Re-purried other sash and painted. Removed silicon and sealed around frame with lime mortar. Similar to next window. Proper job.

Look after the pennies and the pounds will take care of themselves. Every small part of a building should be well maintained to protect the whole thing and preserve it for posterity. Replacement door cill and scarfed in jamb ends, in oak.

Replace where necessary. Otherwise repair. Protect historic fabric. Protect tradesman protecting historic fabric.........with tarpaulins. A dry tradesman is a happy tradesman! Hail tarpaulins. Amen.

Keep chipping away...

So, fifteen years trading this week. Fifteen years since I was made redundant from my yurt-making job. The road has been bumpy at times, there has been much handtool (and machine tool) use, and many opportunities for patience. 

I loved making the yurts; the steambending, the wheel-making, the tying of the trellis, the assembly into a living space. Although to be honest, losing my job, a month after my daughter being born, was the best thing that ever happened to me!

Self-employment is not for everyone. Luckily, I come from a long line of Yorkshire farmers....

used to turning their hands to 'owt' (anything) and doing it 'thissen' (yourself). They worked the land with horses and resisted mechanisation. Something which may have been their undoing; the farm had gone by the time I was born.

 My great-grandfather John Bayes; outstanding in his field!

It's my grandfather Arthur, that gave me my love of hand tools (that's him laying the hedge above). A gentle man whose hands were never still; when not doing things agricultural he could be found in his workshop, carving toys, making rocking horses, weaving corn dollies, making rag rugs. His shed was an aladdin's cave of chisels, rounding planes, drills, all manner of tools that I would gaze on in wonder.

My father too (the first to not be a farmer, he was a photographer) was always building or making something; darkrooms after darkrooms for silver iodide shenanigans. It was he who first taught me to use a saw and an axe safely, when I was knee high to a grasshopper.

 We've made a few things since then!

And used a few power tools when expedient. I love hand tools, but sometimes it just makes no sense not to 'mechanize'.

And with occasional help from the next generation, my son Arthur (my grandfeather's namesake).

And who knows, maybe Bethany, in a few years.......her middle name is River, after all. Here's to another fifteen years of trading!

All carved.

 All carved.

Down to the ground.

 The ground on this is sloping.

Let the real carving begin.

From Beer to Lime with a few pricks on the way.

The original carving is in a local church, and is made from Beer Freestone. It is a chalk limestone and is creamy grey white in colour. I am putting oak to the side for this one and using limewood (Tilia Cordata) as it is closer in colour. I also want to get used to using lime as I have just bought 5 logs of the stuff for some large sculpture! It behaves very differently from oak, but allows for greater detail, as indeed does Beer Freestone.

The swirling renaissance style of the original is complex, so I am using a method I haven't used on carving before; drawing out the design on paper and then 'pricking through', to transfer the design to the limewood board.

Then using gouges to join up the dots.

Before starting the long way down to the sloping ground. At it's deepest, 15mm or 19/32". Limewood is more brittle than oak, and more care needs to be taken.

Plank and muntin job now completely finished.

One final trip to Dorset. A last few finishing touches.

There's a fair bit of Devon oak gone into restoring this screen. Then there's the internal windowsills.

The ledge doors with rosehead nails.

New treads for the stairs.

And various other bits and pieces. The whole house is much more in keeping now for a grade 2* 16th century building. Just what it deserves. A pleasure to work on. More of the same please,