CurlyShavings

Grace, as in the prayer offered before a meal. Cub Scout Promise, as in

I promise to do my best
To do my duty to God and my country,
To help other people, and
To obey the Law of the Pack.

Grant, O God, that this food help us to do our best,
May our understanding of your goodness help us to do our duty to you and our country,
May the inspiration of our friends spur us to help other people,
And may the desire to do Your will help us to obey the law of the pack.

I pressed some Tanzanian Peaberry this morning. From the Phoenix Coffee Company label:

Featuring a wine-like aftertaste, with delicate acidity and a mellow, medium body.

This is my second 10oz of Phoenix Coffee -- the first was some Jamaican Blue Mountain this past December. Something that struck me about both was the way it pressed. I have a Braun burr grinder set to course (French Press and course grounds go together). I clean my grinder and my press well. I use reverse-osmosis water and I let it settle for a few moments after it boils. In my little press, I use 2 tablespoons for 8oz of water, for the big one, it's 6 tablespoons for 40oz of water (turns out that's a bit short, should be 10Tbsp for 40oz). I stir the grounds/water mix and let sit for four minutes, then press. I prefer drinking from a ceramic mug (stainless, paper and styrofoam all "add" to the flavor).

If you're thinking I'm a coffee snob, you're probably right.

But what strikes me about their coffee is how it foams when the water is poured over it, in the press. Starbucks coffees don't do that, they accept the water without complaint. The Phoenix coffees seem to foam, almost hydrophobic. I would have to guess that this is related to how they are each roasted. Please note that this isn't a criticism of either brand; only a comparison. I don't know how coffee is "supposed to" mix in a press.

Tomorrow I'll try again with the proper ratio of grounds to water (2Tbsp to 8oz). For the moment, I'd have to say that this pot seems fragile. It's changing character in just the few minutes since I pressed it. Second cup is still "medium body" but the delicate acidity is starting to turn. As far as the "wine-like aftertaste", I had more of that sniffing the beans than I did drinking the results. In its current strength, this would be an afternoon or evening coffee for me rather than a morning jolt to get me going. More on that tomorrow.

It seems that with eight inches on the ground in Painesville and another seven expected, church has been canceled today. We'll print out the bulletin and sing some of the songs and maybe listen to a taped sermon from over the summer.

That sound was me breathing a sigh of relief. We were trying to figure out the dangers (if any) of driving to Painesville and what we should pack should we get stranded there.

I believe that snow like this is God's way of telling us to slow down. We should submit and enjoy the season rather than exhibit the hubris of feeling that the weather can't stop us.

I got a "wine-like aftertaste" today using my small (one cup) French press and two ounces of coarsely-ground beans.

When I purchased this coffee at Phoenix Coffee on Lee Road last Wednesday (1/16/08), the tall, lanky fellow behind the counter made it sound like this coffee might be a life-changing experience for me. I know some about peaberry coffees from my favorite-coffee-of-all-time, New Guinea Peaberry, a Starbucks offering some years ago. What I heard on Wednesday and didn't know (and still don't believe) is that because the berries are so small, there's twice the coffee in each berry. Nope, I don't believe it. Nice verbal marketing, though. I do, however, get the sense that the coffee's tenderness is in proportion to the size of the bean.

This coffee seems to want to be enjoyed being brewed by the cup; when I try to make more than one cup at a time, it ages right before my lips whilst sitting in the press. (I generally consume a five-cup press in less than half an hour, so it's not waiting too long.) Is it a reaction to the air that's aging it or continued contact with the grounds? I'm not sure. Until I have time and desire to find out, I'll just take the extra effort to make it one cup at a time.

[Update 1/25/08: It also ages while in the cup, perhaps five minutes from press & pour to tasting stale. Does this coffee not press well?]

Is this a bad coffee? No. Is this a good coffee? Yes. Is it a great coffee? I wasn't able to make it be that. Could it be a great coffee for someone else? Probably. Would I purchase another ten ounces at eight dollars and change? Not before trying a few other of their offerings.

This past Christmas I received a Cricket pond sailor from Seaworthy Small Ships as a gift from my children. (They must have picked her up at the Chesapeake Bay Maritime Museum when we were there in October; they have a store on your way out.)

After spending entirely too much time working on it, she's finished and I'm quite happy with her. I must add that the time spent on her was entirely my choice; I could have finished it ages ago except for the multiple coats of paint, the carefully crafted sails (and the dozen projects that interrupted us).

She's an eleven-inch sloop with an adjustable mainsail and jib. I've not taken her out for any maiden voyages (water around here gets sorta stiff this time of year) but she cuts a nice figure on my workbench (shown) and on my bedside table (not shown).

We thought that since she's a Cricket, she needed a cricket on her mainsail, so found some image on the `net that we traced with a fine-point Sharpie.

I have visions of taking her the twelve blocks from my place of employment in downtown Cleveland to Voinovich Bicentennial Park and letting her ply the waters alongside the Good Time III and the steamship William G. Mather during my lunch break. Alas, that will need to wait a while until the water warms up (or I get cabin fever badly enough).

Even as I was sailing KrazyKat last summer and fall I knew that I wasn't completely finished. I wanted a better seat (mahogany), completed floorboards (also mahogany), a birdsmouth mast (SYP), a tiller with some rise to it (laminated mahogany and maple) and some non-plastic belaying cleats.

The Jonesport mooring cleat on the stem is from a solid block of Texas Mesquite with a couple of coats of spar varnish on it, embedded in a thin layer of silicon caulk. I think it strikes a very nice figure way up there in the eyes of the boat. Black plastic cleats just can't compete with that, in my opinion. Then I remembered that I'd purchased them with the idea of getting the boat on the water quickly (in time to enjoy our region's shorter sailing season) and I relaxed. The Cleveland Boat Show was coming up so it was time to move quickly and get some replacements on her.

After doing some searches for the proper way (is there such a thing?) to make wooden cleats, I discovered that for each person making cleats, there are probably two or three ways to get it done, way too much to digest for me. I found a fairly coherent explanation of the process in a couple of places along with the words "block plane" and "rasp" and knew that I could not only use that guidance but add to it.

The plans are available in PDF and Visio formats.

From the nearby pictures, you can see a rough approximation of what was accomplished. From a 7/8'' plank of mesquite, I traced out a number of (six) cleats in almost a tessellation pattern. Nesting them this way minimizes the waste. Then I drilled out around each cleat's base using a bradpoint bit, to define the radius around the base. This was nice, but not necessary. It turns out that because they are finish-shaped by hand, there are slight variations to each and having precisely plotted reference points (the fore and aft endings of the bases) is almost frustrating.

Then I took the plank to my band saw, outfitted with a ¼ blade; you can use a coping saw if you'd like. I think if I were making just one cleat, a coping saw sounds nice. Because I was making half a dozen, I wanted this rough part done quickly. I cut slightly proud of the lines and managed to make fairly consistent copies of my ideal cleat.

From here, they went to my bench, to be shaped. You can see the tools employed. There's a radius rasp/file, a flat bastard file, a microplane shaper, my block plane and a sanding block (150 grit). Because the blanks matched my ideal cleat so closely, there wasn't much to take off. The shaper and radius rasp were employed giving the line a clear route around the base and the block plane and sanding block took off the edges, giving them a slight radius.

I bored the holes for two 3½'' stainless #12 machine screws. (Note that this is a variance from the plans.) The distance was carefully planned to match the plastic cleats' guidance. With hindsight, I'll be replacing them with through-bolts (same diameter and head, only longer, if possible) and fender washers.

I did countersink the heads slightly. I don't like seeing the hardware protrude above the cleat unless it's necessary for some reason. Each received several liberal coatings of tung oil, were allowed to dry/cure and then received the same treatment of being bedded down in a thin layer of silicon caulk.

My pictures from the boat show went AWOL this week; when the weather clears I'll take some more and you can see how they look on the deck!

Several years ago I had an abundance of wormy-chestnut scrap that either needed to be used or thrown away. Sacrilege, to say the least. I'm not sure of what prompted me to make coat hangers, but that's where we ended up.

I used a fancy one from my closet as a template. That's what helped me get the compound angles right. A dowling jig that I built helped drill the holes for the dowels that hold the arms together, along with some yellow glue.

For the thousandth time, I swore never to become a metal-worker. Those folks have my hat off to them. Making the actual crook part of the hanger and getting it to look esthetically appealing may have been the hardest part of the whole job. Of course I used a bending jig for it (making jigs is half the fun of any project!) but the steel wanted to bend back and finding the right radii for the bends was tricky. In the end, it was done and several hooks turned out nicely. (I have since purchased some ready-made hooks to save frustration.)

I used Gorilla Glue to hold the hook into the hole bored out between the arms. So far, no one has reported failure of either the joint, the hook or the hook-to-hanger fastening.

Show here are a Wormy-Chestnut hanger and a Cocobolo hanger.

My oldest daughter collects tea cups. I wanted to give her something related to this interest for Christmas 2007 and it was during a lecture I was attending when the idea for a tea tray came to mind. There are usually bulletins around when I attend a lecture and so it was fairly easy to come up with a few sketches for the joinery and the general dimensions. I went home, measured one of my wife's tea trays and the plan started coming together.

The wood would all be scrap. The ½'' mahogany sides would come from the coamings project on my KrazyKat catboat, as would the ¼'' mahogany slats for the bottom. The ¼'' curly maple slats came from the Breakfast Nook cabinets project. The ebony handles came from a Brio-gauge train project that I made for various children.

The corner joinery is ½'' finger joints. The long sides are ½'' x 1½'' x 17'' and the short sides are 13'' long. That leaves the inside dimensions to be 16''x12''. The ¼'' dado capturing the bottom slats is ¼'' deep and located ¼'' from the bottom of the sides. This leaves the depth of the tray to be 1''.

Yellow glue for the finger joints and for holding the handles to the carcass until the brass brads could be set. I like brass on mahogany.

The curly maple was sanded with tung oil (150 grit, then 220 grit) and I think some of the mahogany slurry ended up in the pores of the curly maple. It helps to "pop" the grain.

Overall, I made enough materials for three. My daughter, mother-in-law and sister-in-law each got one; each unique.

(Reminder to self: let the tung oil set for a few days before presenting to recipient!)

The plans for the TinyCat sailboat I built this summer call for a Jonesport mooring cleat right up on the stem of the boat. I decided that mine should be made of Texas mesquite. I took the plans, copied the profile (top and side views) and then used a photocopier to enlarge each image until it matched the sizes in the plans. Then I took those images as scans and used Visio to create a line-drawing that matched the enlarged drawing.

The plans are available in PDF and Visio formats. The thick black lines are intended to represent how a mooring line would flow over the curves. Not terribly pretty or even accurate, but it did help me see how they would be used.

I started with a large mesquite block and used a hand plane to get it fairly square. Then I cut out the profile I liked the most (there are two profiles included in the plans) and traced them onto the block with a pencil. Then I went to the bandsaw and with a ¼'' blade, cut a rough shape on the top, staying proud of the lines. I traced the side profile and cut that, too.

Then I used a block plane, several different files, a microplane and some sandpaper to shape the mooring cleat appropriately. I had a ½'' stainless dowel (pin?) that was going to become part of the cleat. The hole into which this would fit was bored on the drill press. When the pin was inserted, I used some Gorilla Glue to keep it in place.

Of the two profiles, the second one is my favorite and is the one that most closely matches what I ended up with.

I finished up by giving it a coat of epoxy to soak into some of the cracks that appeared (mesquite trees usually have a fair number of branches). Following that, it received a couple of thinned coats of varnish followed by a couple of lighter (but full-strength) coats. The lag bolts used to secure it to the deck are stainless and in the 3+ inch range. One goes into the stem and the other into a 2''x6'' backing board.

The deck isn't completely flat; I placed some 150 grit sandpaper on the stem and scrubbed the mooring cleat against it until the profile of the cleat matched the shape of the deck. It wasn't much, but I felt better about it.

The entire mooring cleat is bedded in a thin layer of silicon caulk. The two lag bolts (and the fender washers) keep it nice and snug against the deck. I was able to be towed this summer by a huge power boat (never again!) with the tow rope belayed onto this cleat. It held perfectly.

New orders for manufactured durable goods are up 100% for two consecutive months! It seems that elderly appliances can't hear the booming drums of the financial elite who promise such things as "stagflation", recession and other scary terms.

December's higher-than-expected order is a result of the hot water heater giving way midmorning Christmas Eve. Faced with having to heat water to wash dishes from our church's brunch (held at our house), it decided that eighteen years was enough and chose to retire. All over the basement floor. Providentially, there was enough time left in the day to descend upon the orange box home center and get their most-efficient model, install it, and take a shower. With time left over for visions of sugar plums. (We've already noticed that we get hot water longer and our gas bill is lower. Nice!)

January's higher-than-expected order is a result of the washing machine giving way thirty-one days later. Conspiracy? Inquiring minds want to know. Connected via ½'' copper pipe with the new hot water heater, perhaps it, too, had had enough and decided to throw out the towel. Providentially, (or perhaps suspiciously?) the Budget And Requisition Board had for months already determined what model would take its place. A few phone calls around the NE Ohio economy found one in Willoughby. By 10pm we had clothes being washed!

What's nice about the washing machine (besides it being new) is that it is a front-loader. Very efficient in terms of water and electricity usage. The wattage on the motor is low enough that the lights don't dim any more! It's kinda frustrating that the cycles are so much longer. The extra capacity means that we have fewer loads to run and because they are drier when they come out, our dryer doesn't have to run as long.

We're just doing our thing for the environment and the economy!

[Update: An astute reader in the DC area wrote in to bring my attention to the IRS' rules around a tax credit for the H₂O heater's purchase in 2007. I'll keep that in mind!]

The old Cookie Monster song claimed that "C is for cookie, that's good enough for me!" but this "C" is for my niece.

I'm not very fast (or very neat). So far I've spent the remnants of nearly four lunch breaks. That probably adds up to nearly an hour, maybe more.

I think this is called a satin stitch. It's not my best. The others I know aren't my best, either. Soon, I will be finished and then I can wash it, iron it and send it on to my niece.

When asked, she said she wanted green stitching. This green (DMC 581) is what I'm using for a vine (split stitch) on another monogram.

The handkerchief is from Decorating With Lace, the "Crochet Small Edge", I believe.

[Update 01/30/2008: I finished the "C" today and started working on two small flowers on the adjacent corners.]

[Update 02/08/2008: I finished the flowers on the corners, washed it, ironed it and am sending it on its way!]

When the sun is shining, Cleveland is a nice place, even today when the high was in the teens and the wind chill was single digits, sometimes on the negative side of zero.

Today's post has a number of pictures of Cleveland in it. They were all taken from the north-east quadrant of Cleveland's Public Square while I was waiting on a 32x to take me home. I was playing with our newish camera, a Canon PowerShot SX100 IS. Even so, I love my city.

There's something special about interacting with a building with a camera. "Hmmm, there's a lamp post in the way. What if I stand on this bench?" Or "Wow! There's a neat angle between those two buildings—what if we try a zoom?"

And most, no, probably all the buildings have something really neat about them. And that's coming from someone who knows (relatively) little about Cleveland. Maybe it is because I've spent the last ten years walking amongst them.

When the Euclid Corridor Project messed up the commute in 2006 (yes, I think it's been that long), we 32x-ers got shuffled around downtown when the routes changed. It turned into a good thing. No longer was I dropped off in front of my building (the old May Company Building); I had to walk.

For example, my morning walk sometimes takes me from in front of the building seen behind the Peace Memorial. It's labeled "Cleveland Public Auditorium" in this picture. I walk past the Peace Memorial and along the side of the Metzenbaum U.S. Courthouse. Sometimes the east side and sometimes the west side. Sometimes I go into the BP Building for coffee and bypass the Soldiers and Sailors Monument. Other times I skip all that and just walk the Square to the May Company building.

Sometimes I just linger in the Square, looking around. The other day, for example, we had a Charlie Brown Christmas snow going on and the Square was just perfectly lit, it was early enough (7am?) that the traffic wasn't terrible and I could just enjoy the scene.

I don't have any 127 Public Square (Key Tower) pictures here, but I can remember a time on the 5xth floor in a training class and taking a recess to watch one of the falcons disembowel a pigeon on the sill. That was a day to remember.

My first experience with a subpoena was in the BP Building, testifying about a situation at a former employer.

My point is that these are like silent old friends. And some aren't so silent. My company has its roots in the Society for Savings building. I have a friend (and co-32x rider) who works in the Metzenbaum U.S. Courthouse. I have a work colleague who drags us out of the office once a year to the Soldiers and Sailors. I sometimes have lunch on its steps. I always look for the May Company building when I watch A Christmas Story because it shows up there in a couple of scenes.

Tower City can be seen in Spider-Man 3, complete with scaffolding. There's a geocache near this famous Charles Brush lamp on the corner.

I used to meet in the Old Stone Church with a bunch of men with the CBMC.

I used to work at 55 Public Square. That was an adventure. My boss would take me to Johnny Q's for my performance review. We'd have root beer floats. Nice. I think I've even passed along the favor a few times.

I have a piece of red granite from the BP Building in my back yard that I scavenged from a scrap pile years ago.

Even when the sun isn't shining, it's still a nice place. Sun helps, though.

The light was just right when I got off the 32x today near my home.

St. Ann is a landmark for people trying to find my house. I'm sure that it's due to their tower that we have such lovely mobile reception. They give us carillon recitals daily. They don't strike the hour, but one can get into the rhythm of their schedule. We chuckle when they play reformed hymns and praise choruses.

The architecture is just incredible. You can read more about it in this Cleveland Heights Landmark Brochure, landmark #8, pg9.