Sparks Fly

In honor of Barb

Cheryl makes a pretty good Michelada

Linda G. Hill has started the conversation at the bar this week and, in following the rules for the Stream of Consciousness Saturday, I guess I need to skip the “If we were having a beer…” introduction. Well, if we were having a beer, my buddy would be curious. If you’re curious about SoCS, the prompt is:

“Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is ‘start with a noun.’ Start your post with a noun, and write about whatever it is. Have fun!”

“ ‘Sparks were flying’ is supposed to be a figure of speech. What the heck was going on in your driveway last Sunday?”

“I was cutting the parts for the legs to my coffee table.”

“You’re making another coffee table?”

“Yes.”

“As long as you’re not making a bar. You boys want the usual?”

“I’ll start with a Corona, Cheryl. Get the old man whatever he wants.”

“The old man will have a vodka tonic.”

“In a snifter, with a glass of ice on the side – in the future, this will be known as ‘the usual with vodka’ – you guys are so easy.”

“So, you made a coffee table. Then you gave it away. Now you’re making another one?”

“It sounds worse when you say it like that, but yes.”

“Are you going to give this one away?”

“Maybe, I don’t know. Who cares?”

“The man with the vodka seems to care. Here’s your beer, Dan.”

“Thanks Cheryl.”

“I don’t mean to pry – thanks for the drink – but it’s a fair question.”

“I need a coffee table for my office, and I enjoy making furniture. That’s as far as I’ve taken this.”

“You know what they say – people fail to plan.”

“Huh? Who says that?”

“I say that. I say that…when people ask me for help with retirement planning.”

“Oh, yeah, ‘fail to plan vs. plan to fail’ I think I saw that on an episode of M*A*S*H.”

“I remember that episode. But, back to your coffee table, are you failing to plan or planning to fail?”

“I’m not planning, but I don’t anticipate failing.”

“Do you know what failure looks like?”

“Ha! – didn’t you see him a couple of weeks ago with the stiches in his finger? This guy knows what failure looks like.”

“Thanks Cheryl. It’s good to know you’re in my corner.”

“Actually, I was just checking to see if you boys want some food.”

“Apparently we’re guilty of failing to plan on that front.”

“I’m not hungry at the moment, but maybe later.”

“I think that’s a unanimous maybe, Cheryl, but I will have another beer – I do know what empty looks like.”

“When you retire, what becomes of the new coffee table.”

“I don’t know.”

“Are you taking it home?”

“No, we don’t have a need for it and it’s not the style my wife likes.”

“So then, you’re planning to fail?”

“No, I’m not.”

“You’re going to be in your office, in about a year and a half, not knowing what to do with this table, in which you’ve invested time and money. How is that not failure?”

“The slab of wood was forty bucks – someone gave me the steel I used for the legs.”

“Have you heard of opportunity cost? You are spending time working on it.”

“Yeah, but it’s not like my employer would pay me extra if I went to work on Sunday afternoon.”

“Still, you could do other things with your time.”

“Yes, I could sit at this bar with someone who supports my having a hobby.”

“That’s fair, but it still seems like a waste if you end up throwing it away.”

“I won’t throw it away. Worst case, I’ll take the legs off, cut the slab in half and mount the two pieces to the wall as free-floating shelves.”

“Oooh, that would look sweet. Here’s your beer.”

“Thanks Cheryl.”

“You’re welcome, let me know if you want some food.”

“You know…”

“…an order of twenty wings. I’ll get it in now, you guys are too easy today.”

“How do you mount those shelves, the ones that look like they’re floating?”

“You drill holes in the edge, screw some lag-bolts into the wall and cut the heads off. Slip the holes over the shank of the bolts.”

“What keeps them from sliding back off?”

“Newton’s first law.”

“You really are a wise guy.”

“Things don’t spontaneously move away from a wall.”

“I thought you had cats.”

“I do.”

“Well, with my cats, objects at rest don’t seem to stay at rest…until they’re on the floor.”

“Good point. I could drill a hole and insert a pin in the bolt.”

“Now, that’s a plan!”

The pictures illustrate the progress to-date on the coffee table. The sparks photo was carefully staged to avoid any danger. Click on any picture to begin a slide show if you want to read the full captions. And check out the handsome guy Cheryl has been hanging around with.

This is the slab I purchased. I was optimistic that I could salvage some of the rotted area.

I was hoping to keep everything below the lower edge of the level.

The first attempt was to just trim the ends and keep the large area of rot.

The ends are simply too rotted to be used. With very little pressure, I was able to pick this apart.

This is as much of the slab that can be used.

During the surfacing effort, I kept checking – not much progress yet.

Before I can start sanding, I need to get this slab flat. I decided to do that with a hand plane. It’s hard work, but it’s actually kind of fun.

It was hard work, but this plane eventually brought the top of the slab into a level state.

Not much rot could be saved, but the color extends well into the slab.

There’s a curve that has to be planed and sanded away, at least as close as I can get it.

Sanding has brought out the golden color of the mulberry.

These gaps on the underside need to be filled to stabilize the bark.

Surfacing the slab has brought out the color and the contrast. I’m liking this slab.

A filling paste made of sanding dust and a healthy amount of glue to fill those gaps.

The four blocks mark the placement of what were going to be four legs. That design was deemed too “heavy” looking.

There’s only enough steel for one attempt. A few wooden mock-up were made first.

The wooden mock-up legs seem sturdy enough and were approved by the Editor.

The only way I have to cut steel of this size is with an abrasive cut-off saw. Note: This is firmly clamped and I only touched this long enough for the photo.

The pieces are cut and ready to be welded. Eventually, wooden feet will be inserted in the open ends.

Looks a little like those experiments in elementary school. Iron filings, as a result of abrasive cutting of the steel for the legs.

Many of my readers will understand this cartoon.