The WCS Stash Box, All you ever need to know!

"Isaac's beautiful marquetry makes WCS stash boxes the best deal on etsy." -Lynette N., Etsy Shopper
The West Corinth Studio Stash Box, is one of my favorite things to build. I've made perhaps a hundred or more now and no two are alike. Even so, they are all the same size and shape. The reason for their individuality is expressed in the quote above from one of our clients.

But there is a lot more to this little box than meets the eye. Each one is hand crafted with great precision and care. The flexibility to customize the piece with marquetry can, however result in a truely unique gift. In fact, that is how I started making these in the first place.

Heidi came to me one day a few years ago wanting a little box to put some catnip in. She had a very special client who had been quite generous over the years, and Heidi wanted to send her some of Charlie's Blend for her critters. The WCS stash box was born.`

Most of you know that I am in the middle of a batch of electric guitars. Circumstances dictated that I put them aside for the moment as I found myself in need of some gifts. You know what they say, "the best gifts are those you make yourself." I, being loathe to part with any cash, wholeheartedly agree. In any case, there is a bit of a story to tell.

Heidi and I live way out. There aren't many people out here, and everybody knows everybody else. Now, we like to think that in an emergency, Heidi and I would be the first to offer help. More often than not, however, we're on the receiving end of the aid. Over the last few months, with my oldest son's broken leg and most recently with some car trouble, I've racked up a bit of debt to some very kind folks in our town. Rides to and from school and jump starts add up after awhile, and I decided to make some stash boxes for three of the people who have repeatedly come to my aid. Sort of catch up a bit, if you know what I mean.

It just so happens that they are all three women, and with Valentine's Day around the corner I thought I'd put my little "curly hearts" motif around their names on the lids; Bonnie, Erica and Michelle. I don't really know either of the three that well, other than to thank them for bailing me out on occasion, but designing the indiviual boxes gave me pause to think about what I did know.

Erica is petite and bubbly, so I chose birds eye maple for her's.

I think of Michelle as contemporary and refined, so I thought AAA flame maple would be a good match. I also put her name is cursive, just to show how sophisticated I am, no doubt.

Bonnie, the wife of a dairy farmer and mother of seven is always being pulled in five directions so naturally, for her stash box I used cherry burl. See why I love this stuff? What fun!

Since I build the stash boxes in batches of five, I went ahead and did a couple for the Etsy store as well, with my "tumbling guitars" motif.

I figured this would also be a good opportunity to document the process so, what follows is probably way too much information about the WCS Stash Box.

Every box consists of two parts, an inner softwood core with a floating hardwood bottom and a structural veneer shell. The cores are made in batches of about 40 boxes, with interchangeable sides, backs and bottoms. To date, every stash box bottom has been of salvaged wood. At that size, the supply is virtually endless.

Prior to assembling the core, the hardwood bottom is waxed along it's edges to prevent binding in it's groove during glue up. The base is shaped so as to just slightly raise the finished box.
The parts are carefully machined and fit perfectly. Salvaged Baltic birch board (5 ply) is used for the core of the top, which becomes the lid. Sides are of softwood, cedar most often, pine and fir occasionally.Once a trial assembly is complete the core is glued up, clamped and checked for square. The hardwood base is not glued into it's groove to allow for seasonal movement.

The outer shell of the stash box is made of hand sawn 3/32" hardwood veneer. Templates for the sides and top greatly simplify layout.

Throughout the process of marquetry, the waste often produces a stencil. I save these to use again and again. Sometimes I create new motifs with the repeated patterns. Just that happened with the "tumbling guitars" design.The back surface of each panel is carefully scraped smooth after marquetry is completed. The back edge of the band saw blade is my high tech scraper. I challenge you to find a better tool for the job. I do all of the marquetry first. This gives the panels a chance to cure prior to lamination.Cold press lamination with plenty of waterproof glue ensures a powerful bond. By carefully overlapping each corner the outer shell provides incredible strength and stiffness without much additional weight. The backs go on first.The panel is allowed to "swim" in the glue and clamping pressure is applied slowly while maintaining alignment with the registration marks. Good squeeze out is the result. Note the softening on the table. This is a fiberboard sheathing that is used primarily for walls and ceilings. I salvaged a couple of 4x8 sheets at one point and save it exclusively for this purpose. It is ideal.After each pressing the veneer is trimmed back with the Ryoba saw. Note the clamped stop on the bench with a sacrificial underlay; this is a bench hook for the pull stroke of the saw. The Ryoba is also a flush cut saw which is ideal for this purpose.The stiff back of the Dozuki saw is preferred for cutting the veneer prior to laminating. In case you are wondering, I grew up on a little island called Okinawa, in Japan. Sometimes people tell me they see an eastern influence in my work. I definitely see one in my choice of tools, no? But, seriously, these two saws will outperform any of their western equivalents. The shell's sides most often go on second, with the front panels being veneered last. This produces the finest front edge, with the end grain of the back edges completely covered. Sometimes, I will do the sides last with a contrasting wood, for a different effect. Or if I screw up and accidentally laminate the front first. Not supposed to admit that kind of stuff, though, no?Once the tops are laminated, the boxes are cleaned up on the sander. Then the binding rebate is cut on the table saw. I make the rebate in two passes for a perfectly square seat.The bindings are cut from strips of the same structural veneer as the shell. I use a Freud thin kerf 7 1/4" blade in a zero clearance insert. Prior to each cut, the veneer is trued on either the jointer or the edge sander, depending on the species. The trued edge will seat in the rebate.Bindings are carefully marked and mitered on the trimmer.Using plenty of glue and specially shaped cauls, the bindings go on two at a time in opposing pairs. The cauls are heavily waxed to prevent sticking. The opposite pairs of bindings are glued in place once the first set has dried and fully cured.The binding and rebate are sized so that the offered up binding is just proud of the box's edges. This allows positive contact from the caul to the binding, from both the top and side, for a perfectly tight glue joint with no seam. Once the binding is fully cured it is brought down flush with the rasp. This process also allows me to create a very thin binding on the finished box by under sizing the rebate and rasping away the extra binding material. The most refined line is always the objective, but one must be careful to leave enough for final finishing. Re-cutting the binding is real "cussin' and throwin' stuff" kind of work.At this point the stash box is pre-sanded to 150 grit on my jazzy homemade downdraft table. See the grooves in the plywood bench top? That's recycled exterior sheathing. (Picture me just shaking my head.)The top is then sawn free. I use the same thin kerf blade on the table saw and it is raised so as not to cut all the way through the box. This keeps the lid from flopping around for the final cut. A sharp knife finishes the job.

Any good veneer job is always stabilized from underneath. This prevents warping due to uneven seasonal movement.

The inside of the lid, thus receives a cedar lining. I make this the same thickness as the hardwood veneer, 3/32", and it effectively stabilizes the lid as a counter veneer. I cut it so that the grain direction matches that of the exterior finish veneer. It is pressed in place with a carefully sized caul and just enough glue. Note the large cover of sheathing for softening on my press. Lack of uprights in the press design allow great flexibility in the use of the press surface. (disclaimer: I designed and built the press)The bottom of the stash box receives a cedar lining, also. Mitered at the corners, it protrudes to trap the lid in place. Once cut to fit it is glued in place.

After the boxes have been carefully sanded to 600 grit, the outsides are given a thorough rubbing down with my blended oil. This oil is equal parts linseed oil, turpentine and fast drying polyurethane. The interior is left bare wood and is thus a suitable surface for edible herbs, etc.The oil is rubbed out with a rag several times over two days, then the box is waxed on the outside and around the lid. The second coat of wax is burnished with a hard wax pad to give a soft sheen. Then the box is buffed out with a soft cloth, and it is ready to sell or give away! The hardwood base, combined with the very lightweight softwood/veneer construction of the top, effectively weights the stash box.

The cedar lining is fitted to allow for seasonal wood movement without sacrificing a tight fit. The great strength derived from the laminate construction makes for a very sturdy little box.I hope the ladies will like their gifts, because it probably won't be the last time I'll need them to come bail me out.

IW

Heidi's New Studio, pt 1 or, A story about a horse

Heidi has a new painting studio. It is far from completed, but we managed to put it together enough for her to move in and start painting. Lacking siding and interior finish work, it is a bit on the homely side. Heidi seems to dig it though, and she has asked me to put together a posting on its somewhat unusual construction.

Considering that I have been working on the place for over 4 years, there is quite a bit to tell. So, I thought I’d go back to the beginning and tell the whole story. And the story of Heidi‘s studio starts with a story about a horse. This little guy.

A pony really. Pinnochio was his name. He had had a career of jumping over barrels and hedges at a riding school in Vershire, VT. Everybody called him Noki. He’d been a bit of a trouble maker at the school and had never worked in harness before. I’d not seen a horse since I was a kid and had never driven so much as a goat. Sounds like a recipe for disaster, I know. But we managed. Using a restored leather harness with wooden (of course!) hames we started dragging stuff around. We had a few hair raising events here and there; he never really settled down, but he really took to the pulling.

I built this little stable for him. I hewed the timbers with an adze that I bought on E-bay. Most of the rest is salvaged material. The whole thing cost about $600, mostly for the cedar roof.

To augment his paddocks I made him this portable one. He loved being on fresh grass everyday, and mowed the lawn at the same time.

It was clear from the start that he had some draft genes in him. But it was really cool to see him get excited when it was time to get into harness. I made him this little sled and we spent his first winter dragging it and some short logs around the corral. My boys were still little, and thus still mildly curious about what I do, and they were there to provide a bit of ballast on occasion.

And who wouldn’t take a free ride back to the top of the hill.

Once Noki had the hang of it he could begin to earn his keep.

I put sides on the little sled to gather up the hay. Mowed with a scythe and tedded with a rake it was really cheap hay. You'd probably call it organic.

And this is where the story of Heidi’s studio begins. But perhaps a bit of back ground on the author would be in order here.

I have a bit of a “thing” for wood. The raw material. The first material worked by man was most likely wood and this natural substance is still the backbone of all building and industry. Even the steelworker makes patterns of wood, and stone arches are built over removable wood forms.

I have always looked for alternative sources of wood. By alternative I mean cheap, preferably free. Very early on I found that wood in log form, or “in the bole” can be had for free almost everywhere. First with a froe, and then with a big 18” resaw, I started getting boards out of logs and stickering them to dry. Initially there is a lot to learn, and much waste. There are the heartaches associated with moisture content before one breaks down and spends $200 on a moisture meter. But after a while you have lots of wonderful wood.

When you are just one person, though. Just a single man with some tools. There is a limit to how large a log you can handle. Really big stuff can be split before you move it but this wastes a lot of wood. I made a harness for myself to skid logs but no matter what, I always had to pass on the really big logs. And they have the best boards. I got to thinking, if only I had a horse. Why, then I could get the really big stuff and build Heidi a studio.

So, like I said that’s where Noki comes in. We went to work.

The woods behind us is all conserved. Owned by a rich banker from Boston, so I’m told. I’ve never met the fellow, but indirectly I obtained permission to take some trees off his land. The area had been savagely logged by a previous owner and there was a great deal of damage and erosion. Many trees were compromised and either blown down or dying. Working with a forester to decide what to take, and “releasing” apple trees as I went, Noki and I spent the winter logging.

Like, I said he really loved to pull. He’d give it everything he had, every time.

The firewood really started to pile up. Which is good because it was cold. Really cold. And way out in the woods, in the depths of an icy winter, a man can get a little edgy.

The work pays off, though. The big logs are no longer out of reach. Heidi’s studio was born.

The next spring I turned to the backbreaking work of building a foundation.
Skidding a boat load of stone with an energetic pony is dramatic, dangerous work. I never allowed anyone around so have no photos of the event. I’ll try to describe it as best I can.

Our five acres is a big square field. The overgrown hedgerow has an accumulation of junk and debris going back 150 years. Most numerous are the large and small stones that have been pried loose from the field during plowing and dumped around the perimeter. Using pry bars, levers and wooden rollers, I reclaimed theses stones one by one. Noki would drop off our little sled and go have a snack. It took some time to load the stones I'd most recently pried loose from the tangle of roots and old farm machinery. After that I’d most likely need a break.

Hitching a hyped up pony to a loaded stone boat is one of the most difficult tasks I have ever had to accomplish over on over for weeks on end. I’m behind him, tight on the lines walking up through the field. He’s trying to get the tops of timothy, just out of reach of his check reign. Flies are buzzing and his gorgeous black tail is never still.

He sees the sled, loaded with stone. His ears go back, listening to my every move and sound. He is tight now, tense, trotting in place as we come up on the sled from the rear. I’m talking to him softly, telling him how handsome he is.

We pass the sled on the right and I tell him “Gee over,” but he’s already shifting to the right. I give him a sharp “Whoa” but it takes a heavy pull on the lines to stop him, and then he’s pulling on the bit and it’s all I can do to get him to stand.

You, have to get right up under him to hitch up. On these heavy pulls everything needs to be short and tight. He knows what’s coming and it takes all my strength on the lines to keep him still. I say softly “Stand,” over and over. The hook on the single tree has to fall into a ring on the sled. It has to go in loose, any strain on the traces will instantly cause Noki to pull, with me still between him and the boat. He is just too excited by the heavy pull that he knows is next. I carefully pull back on the single tree, a massive piece of ash with heavy iron strapping that I’d made in the shop the previous winter. It misses the hook by 6 inches. I need Noki to back up.

“Back! Noki, Come on Back,” I say, releasing tension on the lines just enough to give a little jerk. He searches with a hind foot. Making sure it’s clear. He knows; fouling on a chain is no fun. The little give from backing is all I need. Noki is still putting his foot down as the hook clinks down into the ring.

Noki hears the iron on iron “clang“. I know it’s all he needs. Instantly I’m on my feet, a greasy black leather line in each gloved hand. I give Noki the click click to start him off but he’s already into his collar. The sled is sticking in the mud a little and he feels the full weight of the stone. I growl, “Get Up!” His hind hoofs dig in as he drops into a crouch. Noki launches himself forward, in a leap that would propel him and a rider over a 5foot wall. The horsehair and leather collar takes the full force of the explosion and with a jerk the sled breaks free from the mud.

Noki is low all the way down the hill. He is working hard, His glistening muscular form is in spasms. It takes everything he’s got. Once on the load he wants it done quickly. Coming in on the pile of stones that’s been forming, I have to keep him lined up. If I stop him just right, I can just roll the stones off. I bring him to a stop and have him take a step back to slacken the chains. Noki is breathing hard, his sides are heaving. I’m excited and relieved, another run down, with no broken bones.

At this end of the run he is docile and his stand is perfect while I unload the stones. All that’s necessary is to loop off the lines on a cleat attached to the shed. Once unloaded I can hitch a ride back to the hedgerow on the sled. Noki will go back to his stable for some hay or maybe go out on a little grass for a while. I collapse for a break before I go pry loose the next load of stones.

And so it went for a time. Grueling, back breaking work of the most mundane sort interspersed with hair raising adventure. Slowly, one load at a time my pile of stones grew. Until I had deemed it sufficient. Then I went and got a shovel.

The foundation progressed quickly. I cut a drain under the first course of stones and filled it with crushed rock. The same material from the hedgerow, pounded into rubble with my grandfather’s old sledge hammer. Yes, you end up singing Peter Gabriel over and over. You just can’t help it. Two or three swings against a nice piece of granite and at the top of my lungs, it’s “I wanna be… YOUR SLEDGEHAMMER!” Kaboom, more rubble.

After extending the drain forty feet down slope to daylight, (more crushed rock in a trench, covered with layers of old hay), I started building the foundation walls. I was digging in heavy clay, so was able to use the sides of the 3 foot deep trench as an in situ form. Only time will tell if I did a good job, but early indications are that drainage is excellent and the whole thing is sound. I haven’t pointed the whole of the exposed surfaces yet, but once that’s finished it should last as long as we need it to.

I do know that it is a very inexpensive foundation. Both in terms of cash outlay and also our carbon footprint here at WCS. Of course, my priority is always to keep costs down, but this brings us back to what I mentioned previously. Everybody knows that eco friendly is where it’s at. People want to do the right thing, but they’ve got you all in such a rush. Most folks wouldn’t hesitate to call in a backhoe and pour some concrete should they need a new foundation. And I see structures, billed as eco friendly, sitting on huge concrete slabs all the time.

I’m not delusional, though. Don’t worry. I don’t think that my stone foundation is going to save the world. I do think my stone foundation is going to make for one very eco friendly studio, however. Way more eco friendly than Brad Pitt’s silly resort. And way more real. Just like everything I build here at WCS. Whether it's a stash box or an electric guitar.

Tune in next time, I’ll show you what some simple, but very nice, hand tools can do with those logs, after my sawyer does his thing, that is. No more adze for me.

IW