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I had a girlfriend in high school who had two unusual characteristics. Lynette was a drama major (not a recommended trait in girlfriends) and her father owned a sweet-looking MG convertible. Whenever I would go to her house for dinner, her father would be under the hood of the vehicle, wrench in hand, until the fried okra hit the dinner table.
The MG was always in need of something, and Lynette’s dad had to do it himself. This was, after all, Arkansas. And anything that wasn’t built in Detroit elicited stares from the townsfolk.
This week, I’m beginning to get the same feeling about the English-style workbench I’m finishing up in the shop. Except for a detail or two, the bench is built. (The photo above was taken before I added the shelf below the top.) But I’m finding that , like its British four-banger brethren , the bench is a bit needy.
For example, I flattened the top last week, but it’s a bit out of true this week. So I flattened it again. I’m also wondering if the top is stiff enough to withstand heavy planing. The top is 1-1/2″ thick and supported by bearers beneath, but it still has an almost imperceptible springy feel that gives me pause. Will it make a difference in my day-to-day work? I don’t know. But I am going to add a couple more ribs on the underside of the top to see if I can stiffen things up.
Perhaps the problem here is that I’m comparing this bench to the Roubo-style French bench I built in 2005. The top to that bench is almost 4″ thick and is unyielding to all punishment. But that bench took twice as long to build and required three times the material.
Clearly, I need to take the English bench for more of a test drive.
As I’ve begun breaking in the bench by working on it, I have found some things about it that are quite nice. The angled leg vise is fantastic. The large front apron is an excellent means of supporting long and wide work with little effort. And I’ve actually been clamping stuff to the benchtop without too much trouble at its ends.
Bottom line: I go through this process with all projects. I start with great optimism as I begin a project. After a series of highs and lows, I complete the project. I stand back, take a look and focus on its flaws, the project’s frustrations and my mistakes. Then, after I put the project into use, I mellow. The flaws fade and I’m able to see the project for what it is , somewhere between the optimism and the despair.
I hope this is also true with the bench. It sure didn’t happen with Lynette (or her dad’s MG). He sold the green convertible and Lynette dumped me for one of the officers of the drama club.
