Which is the punch line of a remarkably un-funny joke that has somehow survived in my memory since Chiswick County Grammar School for Boys.
It's been a nice idle week since dropping off the book press at the Artcraft Gallery show. (The local paper admired the piece, but couldn't really see why anyone would want it in their living room.) Today it was time to sweep out the dust and shavings and start the next job, which is a beech lying press, tub and plough for JL that is heading south.
So - here are the European Beech planks before and after cutting to length and width; tomorrow they'll be glued up into the basic components of the stand (tub) and press. Beech seems a peaceful and obliging wood to work with after the sometimes frustrating task of extracting sufficient usable timber from large "natural" slices of tree-trunks for the 100 Mile endeavour.
Note the clean floor. (I'm also toying with the idea of acquiring a respectable table saw)