Last Saturday I finished building a multipurpose key cabinet as an almost final touch in my ongoing mudroom project. I designed the multipurpose key cabinet to cover a pair of ancient washing machine water spigots protruding through the wall (yes, I know I should have removed them and capped the feed lines but...), provide a place to hang equipment and vehicle keys and provide small shelves for items like matches, utility knives, multi-tools and human headlamps that all get used outside and so often misplaced. As with the pantry cabinet, I built the multipurpose key cabinet using readily available dimensional lumber -- but this time the lumber was all in the form of scraps from the pantry cabinet project.

After a bit of measuring and figuring, I decided that the cabinet needed to be about 4.25-inches deep on the inside to fully enclose the spigots and my Partner In Culinary Crime (PICC) thought that the cabinet ought to be 16 inches wide and 32 inches tall. I went out to look over the scrap pile and those dimensions were easy to find material for and would leave sufficient additional scraps to build some other fun things. For the top, bottom and two sides, I ripped 4.25-inch wide boards from the cut-off end portions of the pantry's shelves, which were made with 2 by 10 number 3 grade pine. As luck would have it, I was able to rip all the 4.25-inch wide stuff I needed from knot-free portions of the scraps. As before, I simply screwed the pieces together to form a rectangle and squared it up by measuring corner to corner, clamping it to my portable workbench and installing 1 by 3 nailers to the inside top and bottom -- drywall screws to the rescue again.

Since we didn't want the plaster exposed inside the key cabinet, except around the spigots, I cut two lengths of 1 by 10 material from a clear number 1 pine scrap and installed them as before. Next, I cut two shelves from 1 by three scraps and installed them, leaving plenty of room for the keys to dangle. After this, I mounted the cabinet to the wall, screwing it fast to the studs and plaster lath using 2.5-inch deck screws. My PICC held the cabinet in place while I screwed the top-left corner of the upper nailer to the wall. We then used a level to level the cabinet and set the other three screws.  

The next task for me was to build a single door -- the process went like this.

1. Build a frame to fit inside the cabinet with about 0.25 inch of clearance all the way around. I used 1 by 3 material ripped in half and drywall screws to assemble the frame.

2. Once squared up, I attached tongue and groove pine bead board to the frame using very short finishing nails. The top, bottom and outside frame members were overlapped with the bead board by about 0.25 inch.

3. Build the outer door frame using 1 by 3 pine -- cut rebates with the table saw to accommodate the overlap with the bead board. The outer frame members were attached to the inner frame from the back and to each other with glue.

4. Cut reliefs for the hinges and install them.

5. Install door on the cabinet.

My PICC thought we had enough darkness in the mudroom already -- floors, rustic walnut bench, pantry cabinet -- so she decided to paint the multipurpose key cabinet a sage green that matches one element of the adjacent kitchen floor and that she plans to use on the kitchen island I build one day.

As I stood back admiring the cabinet, my PICC lamented that the rows of muddy boots and other boots and shoes in the trays by the door looked kind of cluttered. I had to agree. So even though this was the last planned mudroom project, I think we will try to come up with a boot cabinet of sorts that can house the clean dry boots and at least camouflage the muddy and wet ones. Stay tuned.

The new mudroom addition needed a bench to facilitate the putting on and taking off of boots so I decided that building a rustic bench with hand-worked walnut would fit the bill. Actually the idea to build a rustic bench was partly mine and partly my Partner In Culinary Crime’s (PICC). Not quite a year ago, we happened upon a sawyer in Missouri who specialized in supplying the premium gunstock industry with American Black Walnut blanks. And it just so happened that he had several huge slabs of walnut on his trailer that were inferior for the gunstock trade, but my PICC and I saw big potential in the pieces – so we struck a bargain and hoisted three of the 200-pound slabs into our pickup truck, which is where they sat for about 3 months before we unloaded them in the barn.

Fast forward about 7 more months and last Saturday I found myself  voluntarily evicted from the house because it was my PICC’s book club day, which explained all the bread baking and cooking that ensued before I headed out to chore the animals that morning. I am actually allowed in the house on book club day, but I don’t really feel comfortable there – it’s not the books that make me nervous, it’s being the only guy near what is so clearly not a guy event that makes me nervous.

So, after feeding the animals and moving the cattle and corralling the donkeys, I was wandering around the barn dreaming of a hot cup of coffee when I spied the heavy walnut slabs all akimbo right where I slid them off the truck. And as I turned to see what kind of bird was fluttering up in the rafters (a dove of some sort) I noticed a nice straight walnut log that was about 10 inches in diameter and 20 inches long. It hit me like a Eureka moment! I would saw down one of the slabs and rive out four legs for it from the walnut log and make a serviceable, if not beautiful mudroom bench. I looked forward to the physical nature of the work, because it was about 16 degrees in the barn.

The walnut slab was sawed out from a large crotch using what must be a giant band saw mill – it was pretty uniformly 2.5 inches thick and contained both sapwood and heartwood figuring. Luckily one edge was more or less straight and so I cut the 30-inch wide piece down to about 16-inches wide and trimmed it to about 4-feet in length. I did some definitely-not-UL-approved things with my table saw to make that happen – not recommended. The sweat I worked up cutting the walnut stemmed from the physical nature of horsing 200 pounds of lumber around and the adrenaline rush of keeping one’s digits intact doing it.

I next employed our very nice and very heavy-duty Porter Cable belt sander (I learned to control and love belt sanders in my boat-building days) to knock down the band saw marks created by the sawmill and to round some of the corners that weren’t naturally rounded as part of the tree. One cool thing about that sander is that it has a dust-collection bag. I am not fond of the taste of walnut dust. Blech! 

Finally, I turned my attention to the short walnut log – it was not green but it was not more than 9 months dry. I had to work a bit to make the first split with the froe and maul, but the subsequent splits were like butter and in short order I had split out 4 lovely leg blanks that tapered from about 3 inches square to 2 inches square. After about an hour with the drawknife, spoke shave and sheath knife, I had four nice rustic legs with a mostly round cross section. I trimmed one end of each to an eleven-degree angle on the table saw, located mounting holes on the bottom of the walnut slab and used a ships augur to bore holes that angled about 11 degrees toward the corners. Oh, I forgot to mention that I found four half-inch by six-inch long lag bolts on my workbench and decided not to mortise the legs into the bench – not recommended, I know, but…

About this time, book club had broken up and my PICC helped install the legs – she held them fast while I applied considerable torque on the lag bolts. I used a mortising chisel to cut reliefs in the top of the bench to countersink the bolt heads – that way the wood-dope filler would look kind of like a tenon. I know this makes the fine woodworkers among you wince, but some days you feel like cutting 11-degree through mortises and some days you don’t. In this case, I wanted the project to be finished by Sunday noon.

Sunday involved sanding, a bit of whittling and a good soaking with very hot linseed oil. I won’t tell you how I got the linseed oil hot because it’s not an approved method (traditional boat builders among you will know what I did). I will tell you that I used an old cotton tube sock to work the oil in and an old cotton t-shirt to wipe the excess off. I’m kind of tickled with how the bench turned out. We’ll see if it serves its purpose starting tomorrow.

Since I finished the bench so early in the day, I started on a key cabinet that doubles as an enclosure for a couple of old faucets that intrude on the mudroom space, but that’s a story for another day. Stay tuned.

After three partial weekends of work, I finally finished building a pantry cabinet in the mudroom project that began about 15 months ago. Building a pantry cabinet is probably like chopping liver for lots of woodworkers out there, but it was a first for me -- and I know I broke a few cardinal rules of fine woodworking while building our pantry cabinet, but in this case homemade is just right. To update you on the mudroom project, the addition is completely finished inside and outside with the exception of re-fitting the siding on the original house where the mudroom's gabled roof attaches. The floors are done, the hot water heater is nestled in its final spot in the corner between the washer and dryer. The coat/coverall hooks are in place and now the 6-ft by 5-ft pantry cabinet is all but finished. My Partner In Culinary Crime is putting the final finishing touches on the pantry cabinet today and she says she can't wait to fill it with the goods -- and then get started on the KITCHEN RENNOVATION -- Yikes!

Building the pantry cabinet was easier than I figured it would be because my Partner In Culinary Crime (PICC) is a talented artist and handed me a 3-dimensional drawing, complete with pictures and arrows and measurements and suggested materials. A not so quick trip to the local home-improvement store caused us to change some of the materials. Have you seen the price of oak these days?!??! So knotty pine it is. Have you seen the price of knotty pine these days?!??!  Criminy, back when I was building wooden boats lumber wasn't so expensive, but that was 20 years ago. Basically I chose some #2 1 by 3 material for the frame and door faces, #3 material for the shelves and top and a lovely #1 clear board for the “backsplash” as my PICC calls it.

Since I don’t have a biscuit cutter or a doweling jig, I made the unilateral decision to use 1.75-inch and 1.25-inch drywall screws and some glue to hold things together. Please don’t hate me for that, I like screws and they work great if you drill pilot holes and use a bit that makes it possible to countersink the head. A little wood dope and the holes are barely visible – this is a farm house after all. I did splurge for some 3/16-inch thick pine tongue-and-groove bead board for the panels. I used a power miter saw to cut pieces to length and a table saw to rip and cut rebates. My trusty, 20 something year old Milwaukee corded hole shooter doubled as a boring tool and a driver. The Jacobs chuck got a heck of a workout with all the bit changes. I love that tool.

Since my PICC wanted the top panels of the door to "breathe" we stapled black aluminum screening to the frames. We had "discussion" over the see-through nature of the screen and the expense to value of the perforated aluminum we'd seen at the local home improvement store. She asked me to reconsider the aluminum and I said "heck no" as I headed to the truck to drive 20 miles back to town to pick the aluminum panels up. Wow, do those door panels look awesome. And the smile they bring to our faces is well worth the expense.

Since my PICC is a total detail person, she agreed to handle the sanding -- I tried to micromanage now and then but only to get a little attention by way of rolling eyes. I have to admit, this definitely wasn't her first day.

Thankfully my PICC is a total detail person and wouldn't let me near the stain. I didn't bother trying to micromanage since I was otherwise occupied with a science experiment in the adjacent laundry room.

I'm really thrilled with how the cabinet turned out. I'll install the pull knobs this week and then start contemplating the kitchen. Stay tuned.

Domestic animals never cease to amaze me, but I've not been so amazed in a long time as I was last weekend when one of our Mulefoot sows decided to deliver a fine batch of winter piglets out in her wooded pasture. She looked like she was a few days off so we chose not to move her to an outdoor farrowing pen that morning -- had we watched that Mulefoot sow more carefully, we would have known she was planning for piglets on the winter pasture. I'm glad we weren't on top of her because I would have missed an amazing lesson. This particular pig chose to build her nest in a private A-frame hut that's well away from the yard where the rest of the pigs spend most of their winter days half buried in hay they pull from big round bales.

The day was cold ... high of about 25 and there was nothing but dirt on the floor of the A-frame hut at 9 AM.

The sow in question was lounging with the group and hogged her share of feed at about 6 PM.

The sow in question was missing the following morning -- temperatures had dipped to nearly zero degrees.

I wasn't particularly concerned that she wasn't with the pig herd in the morning, but I was quite amazed when I saw that the door to the A-frame was stuffed tight with hay. Huh? So I hiked out to the hut and pulled back the hay to see a momma pig with at least 5 baby pigs all enclosed in the most magnificent hay nest I have ever seen (it's hard to count black piglets in the dark). And she would have had to haul that hay -- about 200 pounds of it -- from the pig yard. Yes, she selected mouthful after mouthful of hay from the big round bale, carried it off to her pasture hut and arranged it just so, obviously knowing that she and her babies would need substantial protection from the ensuing cold

. 

Nearly a week later, the sow and all of her piglets are thriving, having spent several nights in sub-zero temperatures. This particular nameless sow has the survival skills to go feral, I am sure. Luckily she likes people. I plan to keep her daughters for breeding purposes because maternal characteristics are highly heritable and I plan to keep at least one of her sons to breed some of my less motherly sows.

She's since compacted her nest hay a bit and we've propped a piece of wood over the door to keep the curious members of the herd from meddling with her. She knocks the door down once a day to come outside, discipline the curious onlookers and take care of her sanitation needs. We bring her water and feed twice each day and revel in the soft chorus of grunting that emanates from perfectly satisfied pig and piglets.

Sometimes animal husbandry skills include knowing when to leave things well enough alone. I learned that not all piglets need to be meddled with at birth and that even in the dead cold of winter some sows know the best way to keep their babies alive. Isn't that amazing?

Photos courtesy Karen Keb.

The Covington Planter Company of Albany, Georgia turns 100 this year, which only adds to the pride I feel each time I plant my garden with one of its products. While my machines wear Covington Planter’s sister brand, Cole Planter, they share a common legacy and collectively represent Covington Planter as the oldest planting equipment manufacturer in the United States. This stuff is hand fabricated in the U.S.A. by folks who take pride in sowing new chapters into Covington’s story each and every day.

My interest in Covington began as a result of my ownership of an older Brinly-Hardy branded single row vegetable seed planter that was designed to be pulled by my 1961 7-horsepower International Harvester Cub Cadet. The Brinly-Hardy single-row unit was actually manufactured by the Cole Planter Company (then of North Carolina). Covington Planter and Cole Planter merged in 2003 and that merger has helped ensure that small growers across North America have access to time-tested small to medium-scale planting equipment, including a walk-behind planter that’s built for serious duty. I no longer own that original Brinly-Hardy/Cole planter, but I now use Cole Planter’s walk-behind Planet Jr. model for the bulk of my seeding duties each spring.

Founded in Headland, Alabama by Will Frank Covington Sr., Covington Planter began its business during the reign of cotton in the South. The early planters were designed to be mule drawn but were reengineered into heavier models just prior to World War II for tractor power.  Post war, the company expanded its manufacturing capacity and moved to Dothan, Alabama. In 1947 Covington received accolades from the Alabama Farmers State newspaper:

“The W. F. Covington Planter Company had embodied for years what the State Chamber of Commerce and other business groups have recently been preaching. That is the supplementing of the farm with factory…Mr. Covington simply had a good idea for making planters, and distributors and the energy to put his ideas into practice. The growth of the firm proves that he had a good product … and people of the region feel a deep pride in having a manufacturer in their midst who understands their needs and is in position to fill them.”

In the late 1950s, Covington Planter Company moved to its current facility in Albany, Georgia. The planters continue to be produced in the proven classic Covington design with modern improvements that also keep the tools true to their tried and true design.

If you ever find yourself looking for a planter that’s more robust than most walk-behind consumer models but not so huge you need a 75 horsepower tractor to motivate it, and you appreciate good old fashioned quality of workmanship, then you need look no further than to a Covington or Cole planter. I know you won’t be disappointed.