Mirror Box/Desktop Vanity

How many the ways to lid a box? Let me count: oh, really, only a handful. Certainly love has more variety. Little boxes do come in an absolute myriad of forms, of woods, of shapes, but when it comes to the lid all are just themes and variations on the basic handful of methods. So my twist to the sliding lid, a popular method for pencil boxes, fine liquors, game pieces, jigsaw puzzles, was to replace the wood with plate glass mirror. This must be pretty novel as the first ten pages of Google images for sliding lid box have nary a single sliding mirror lid. The edges of the plate glass are seamed (relieved) to prevent cuts, and the glass locks in place by virtue of a slight squeeze in the dado groove thus requiring no catch. The mirror lid can stand independently or be positioned upside down in its receiver. 

I call this the “desktop vanity” or perhaps the “oh-very-small secretary” or perhaps the “reflective treasure chest” revealing the only true treasure.

The unstained box with its deep, almost cherry-like tone is made from Brazilian Pine, Araucaria brasiliana, related to the Monkey Puzzle tree, Araucaria araucana, the national tree of Chili (above in Butchart Gardens). It is so named because the configuration of its limbs would make it impossible for a monkey to climb (maybe). A whole set of such boxes were made from the cutoffs remaining after fabricating this thick and heavy exterior door, thus adhering to my career-long precept of utilizing scraps from large projects to make unas pocas cosas. (Sorry, couldn't help that reference to my favorite Tucson restaurant Café Poca Cosa)

P.S. Please note that this is a quite vintage Flying Circus Studios piece, the wood amazingly failing to fail to the mistaken joinery.

Bike Cable Lid Support - Woodworking Tip #23

For a cyclist a broken brake cable just means longer stopping distance. For a pilot a broken elevator cable means landing, look mom, “no hands,” using flaps, power and trim for pitch control. For my lady a broken jewelry box lid support cable meant holding the lid with the left hand as the right hand sought the day's adornments. Really, not bad: after 29,251 cycles this bike cable lid support broke, though not the cable itself. The cable pulled out of its crimped ring connector on the lid. It was easily replaced with a fresh piece of bicycle brake cable and a new ring wire connector.

Using Soss hinges, as I did, on this walnut and cherry jewelry box with a full-width earring tray and music movement, the hinge itself provided no lid support. Furthermore, the full tray under the lid allowed no space for a scissors lid stay.  A light cord or chain tends to either get kinked or ends up draping outside of the box.  The solution was found in of all places my cycling ditty box. Taking a brake cable I cut the nipple end down to about 6 inches, threaded it through a diagonal hole in the support dowel for the earring tray and crimped the end to an uninsulated ring wire connector. The ring connector was then screwed to the underside of the lid. The clearance of only 1/16” between the tray and side of the jewelry box still allowed the cable to slide by, though during this recent repair I relieved the side of the tray slightly to permit even easier movement.  If you use a rail instead of dowels to support the tray the diagonal cable hole would go through it.

The barrel nipple at the end of the cable hits the bottom of the box when the lid is closed and neatly slides forward along the bottom of the box. The real beauty of this system is that the bike cable is rigid enough to have no tendency to fold or kink. Surprisingly, little pressure must be exerted on the felt as it appears completely unmarred even after 29,251 cycles.  There you have it:  a synthesis of two of my loves, cycling and woodworking, for my love.

To view all previous Woodworking Tips just type "woodworking tip" into the search box at the top of the blog's first page.  Unique woodenwares made from saved wood are available at our eco-friendly Etsy shop:  FlyingCircusStudios

New Needlepoint Collaborator

My wife's lifetime role of educator has taken a new turn with her granddaughter Amelia as student in needlepoint.  Much love and patience were injected into this lovely still life, though ofttimes the progress of the piece suffered its own still life.  Nonetheless, our six-year-old Amelia, turning seven just at completion, persevered and accomplished a fine first needlepoint, a gift to her parents.   Readers of this blog might realize I fabricated the accompanying frame out of cherry wood as I have done with my wife Sara's needlepoints, ten framed pieces so far.  Amelia also helped out some with the framing, bringing out the rich cherry wood color with applications of Watco oil.

A hearty congratulations to the artist and also to her dad Josh whose birthday is today!