Ulu knives and optometry school

I don't have a great history with sharp objects.

I remember being on a long road trip, visiting some wood carver, and getting a lecture about how the only proper way to sharpen a pencil is with a knife. We purchased one of those knives. I remember it as something basically like a modern box knife with a nasty hooked blade that you could unscrew and protect inside the handle.

I remember doing a lot of whittling with that knife. I feel like I produced a couple of passible vaguely bird-shaped things. That's probably wishful thinking on my part.

I don't remember when my parents got my first wood-carving kit

We were doing a lot of arts and crafts stuff in the early 1980s. I remember spending a lot of time around one store in particular.

I think this was when Mom started doing pottery figurines.

Someone involved with that store carved beautiful bas-relief sculptures of buildings out of wood rounds.

I fell in love with that and wanted to learn how to do it myself. Mom arranged for me to get some lessons.

We had a swimming pool back then. I remember that it was a major investment, and my dad monitored the chemistry constantly when he was in town.

One night, I'd been more interested in whatever carving project I was doing than in going outside to swim.

I hung out in the amorphous room between our garage and kitchen that  got transformed from dining room into office.

I was deeply engrossed in gouging out the background behind some random building when the knife slipped. I'm sure I'd heard the safety rule about "always cut away from your parts," but when has a kid ever paid attention to that sort of thing without an object lesson?

I got the object lesson that day, but I didn't learn it.

I gashed open my own belly. It barely cut into the fat layer, and the adults got the bleeding stopped pretty quickly. I don't even see the scar any more, but I still feel pretty panicked at the memory.

At some point, I vaguely remember getting in trouble for something. I was supposed to do the dishes by hand for a while as punishment, even though we had a dishwasher.

I managed to drop something, then reach to grab it as it shattered. I gashed my hand open and got a reprieve.

Later, around junior high, I carried a pocket knife to my girlfriend's birthday party.

Her best friend decided it would be funny to wrap her present in a couple of layers of Scotch tape.

I decided to be all manly and cut through all the nonsense.

Instead, I sliced really deeply into the tip of my left index finger.

I wound up in the ER and got 8 stitches. 

Back then, my guitar was basically my life. I couldn't play for 2 or 3 months, and it was mentally and emotionally agonizing.

My fingertip died, fell, off, and regrew. These days, the nerves mostly report what's going on correctly. But there are still times when I'll grip something and get a jolt of...it isn't pain. It's just a sensation of wrongness.

We went back to that restaurant a few years ago (it was probably 20, so call it 15 years later), and we could all still see my blood stains in the carpet.

By the time I turned into a roommate with Khrys and Melissa, we just all accepted a basic fact: I could not be trusted around sharp objects.

A few years ago, he spent some time in Alaska to finish up his practical optometry training.

It sounds very much as if it's just a different country. I'm in awe of the experiences he had up there, living in a world where the sun never sets.

One of the cool things about living in a "different country" like that (who could have known that Alaska is part of the US?) is bringing back cool tourist swag for your friends and family.

He brought back Ulu knives for pretty much everyone except me.

I couldn't be trusted near a sharp object, so I got a bear hugging a shot glass.

I had not consciously thought about this in years. Well, scars aren't something you forget. But my memories of the energy that Khrys put into protecting me from my own clumsiness had faded a bit.

I've spent a lot of time and money lately arranging to get a bunch of sharp edges for working with wood. And doing things like learning how to make them sharper and actually using them safely.

I'm spending a lot of time (and, let's be honest, money) on ebay, looking for vintage tools that you just cannot buy new these days.

I was drooling over an amazing hunting knife blade made from hand-forged Damascus steel, fantasizing about ways to make this even more awesome by adding a handle, when I saw a link to an ulu knife for sale.

This really slammed the irony of where I am now versus where I was then.

A huge part of what I'm doing in my spare time is focused on ways to make edges sharper. The sharper the knife is, the less likely it is to slip.

I'm spending at least that much effort into making sure no one has body parts in places that might get sliced when that knife slips anyway.

I'm still not doing that great a job at keeping myself safe.

My wrists are still healing up from when my plane skips over nasty, gnarly wood.

But I think I'm getting better.

And, really, isn't that the point?

Shopping With Mal

I'm building a thing called a Moxon vise.

It's basically a really big and powerful extra hand you can use to hold your wood while you're shaping it.

I was stupid enough to decide to build it out of hickory. Or maybe it's pecan...lumber yards treat them interchangeably.

They make baseball bats out of the same stuff. This wood is ridiculously hard and difficult to work which is probably why it's so beautiful if it's worked well.

I know it's good exercise, but my back really regrets the decision to tackle it.

I have the basic shape in place. I'm in the process of shaving the main parts from 1.75 inches thick to a measly 1.5 inches.

I looked it up. The power tools to do this sort of thing start at $3000. They're really heavy, and they take up a lot more room than a little hand-plane cabinet would.

I'm not sure the few hundred dollars I've spent in this direction, along with all the blood and sweat (no tears yet) that I've poured into this really tiny piece of the puzzle, were a better choice.

They feel better to me. I'm getting exercise and activating creative parts of my brain. And I've learned more about wood than I ever imagined there was to know when I was mangling it using power tools. I could wax poetic.

Laura assures me that the hand tools are basically silent, even though she's rightfully concerned about how much it's costing us for me to get started on this new project.

And none of that matters for the point at hand.

I wanted to buy a couple of things on Saturday. I wanted a little can for dispensing oil. And I wanted a couple of carriage bolts so I can screw in some tabs to make that vise sit flush with my work table.

I invited Mal to come along. His first reaction was some nonsense from a video. I was shocked to discover that he meant "Yes."

Home Depot didn't have oil cans that I could find.

I did ask.

Mal really hated their Halloween display. He doesn't understand why people enjoy anything that's scary.

He fixated on 

1. a Mickey/Minnie Mouse display, where there's a witch running from Ooogie-Boogie from Nightmare Before Christmas and 
2. a really creepy clown in a giant jack-in-the-box display.
   

We walked past them a couple of times before he decided that was enough. 

I tried to explain that it helps to laugh at things that seem scary when you know they can't really hurt you. He doesn't seem get the distinction.

Just before we left, Mal decided that he was tired and that his mask hurt.

Hey, I found the carriage screws and matching wing nuts.

We moved on to Harbor Freight.

I know their products are not exactly top-notch. But their website claimed they have something that resembles an oil can for $4, if you go to the physical store. I also thought about buying another set of files plus a light while I was picking up that oil can.

The one employee I could find thought they might be in the automotive aisle, assuming they sell such a ridiculous item.

While I hunted, Mal decided that it would be fun to run around in different aisles.

Until it wasn't. He tried to tell me that he couldn't find me, but I didn't hear him. He got pretty upset by that.

They didn't have an oil can either. I wound up buying a vintage one from ebay for $5.

 Later, I thanked Mal for going with me. His company had made it much more enjoyable.

He told me not so much.

Laura explained that his love language is disdain.

Cooking by Moonlight

Background

Part of my exploration into wood working has been delving into the question: "How do I keep my tools from rusting?"

I really should have links for reference. If I were a conscientious writer, I'd go back and look up my sources.

One video I watched boiled it down to this:

For the bulk of your tools that you actually use, the key is to oil your metal surfaces and then apply paste wax.

Well, it's actually quite a bit more involved than that. Step one is to control the environment in which you store your tools. Oil and paste wax is probably step two.

But, for purposes of this blog post, I want to focus on the "oil and paste wax" portion.

What does "oil" actually mean?

In this day and age, to almost everyone in America, it means a little 3-in-1 oil. Which really is just a variant of mineral oil.

Mineral oil is an extremely pure petroleum distillate. It's the base product for a long list of light machine oils. It's also the major component in baby oil and a lot of cosmetics.

I'd rather avoid petrochemicals. It's probably a stupid hippy thing. Putting mineral oil on my tools to keep them from rusting isn't going to destroy the environment.

But I want to do whatever I can to be a good steward of the earth.

And it isn't like Charles Ingles had ready access to extremely refined petroleum to keep his tools from rusting.

So I dug a little deeper.

Boiled Linseed Oil

I wound up in a blog post from a blacksmith who insists that mineral oil is ridiculous. Use boiled linseed oil (aka BLO) instead. It basically builds a waterproof plastic coating around the metal. Wood workers complain that it leaves a gummy residue, but that's because they're doing it wrong. The trick is to apply a light film and wipe off the excess. Otherwise the outside hardens from air exposure while the inside remains gooey.

I was almost convinced, until I ran across a post by a wood worker who'd tried this specific technique.

After a few years, he has a grimy build-up on all his tools.

I read a few other blog/forum posts that talked about the technique. It seems like you really need to apply it hot, sort of like seasoning a cast iron skillet. Coat the iron after it's cooled down to around 250F, and apply the BLO when it will smoke off.

I don't believe that 250F would ruin the temper of any of my tools, but I still don't want to bake them in our oven. Aside from the smells and the fire alarms, that can't be good for the wooden handles.

Besides, BLO isn't really what I'd consider something as pure as simple oil of linseed (aka flax) that had been boiled for a while.

It's actually been mixed with noxious chemicals that help it dry faster. In fact, they work so well that the rags used to apply it can self-combust.

I don't know whether that happens with the "more natural" version. Assuming you can find it., it seems safer to assume it's possible.

Walnut Oil

The same (blacksmith?) blogger who recommended BLO so highly also recommended walnut oil out of the salad dressing section at your local super market.

This approach is really tempting to me.

It's both natural and food-safe.

Several people warned that this and any other plant-based oil will turn rancid. That blogger insisted this was nonsense.

I should explore this option more thoroughly.

Turpentine

Another poster raved on and on about the wonders of using turpentine. No one has an explanation for why it works so well, but his tools remain rust-free, and he can tell a difference.

Lanolin

I felt like I hit a breakthrough when I ran across a Ren Faire knight who was looking for more historically authentic ways to protect his weapons and armor from rust.

The historical record seems to be very limited on this subject.

People were interested in the results of what things like swords and knives and chisels and hammers could do. They weren't all that interested in writing about the tools themselves, much less their preservation.

Actually, all those details were heavily guarded trade secrets that were passed from master to apprentice and seem to be lost to history.

I ran across one really long conversation thread about this. Pretty much every post in the thread had been moderated away as "citation needed." This was from historians.

However:

It does seem to be widely accepted that knights used wool-lined sheaths for their swords.

And the rich ones had an army of servants to care for their gear.

There are a *lot* of stories about iron gates into sheep paddocks. The sheep like to rub up against them. The parts the sheep can reach have remained pristine for centuries.

The rest are rusted-out garbage. 

Someone reported excellent results from a mix (by volume) of 5:1 mineral spirits  to 1 lanolin.

He managed to find the paywall for a peer-reviewed scientific paper that established that this mixture needed around 12.5% lanolin by weight.

The original mix was somewhere around 22% lanolin by weight, which was plenty.

The Poor Version

It seems like poorer knights used animal fat to keep their weapons oiled. I'm sure that smelled even nastier than the rancid vegetarian version.

And So I Found a Plan

I decided that, for "oil," I'd use a 4:1 mix of turpentine:lanoline.

Chainsaw Oil

We rented a chainsaw the other day (another long story). These spew oil as part of their standard operations. The instructions warn to keep the reservoir topped up. And be sure to use real chainsaw oil rather than something like brake fluid.

Chainsaw oil is specifically formulated to not sling off the tip as the chain spins around the blade.

It's also bio-degradable and environmentally. And specifically designed to not mess up the wood you're cutting.

I'd already ordered the ingredients I wanted for my original plan, but I want to do more research into this.

What About Paste Wax?

This is a mix of wax and oil.

There are a ton of different options here.

What comes to my mind is "Turtle Wax," which was a brand when I was a kid.

It boils (heh) down to different proportions of BLO and some kind of wax.

There are some really involved recipes available.

What about non-noxious BLO?

This one was surprisingly tough.

It's rare enough that they don't even call it "boiled." Now the plain boring boiled kind is called "polymerized."

The basic point is the same either way. Raw linseed oil takes forever to dry. BLO is going to dry faster than the polymerized version.

Tried & True Danish Oil is supposed to be just about the cleanest and purest source of BLO that's available. Supposedly they "just" boil it and then do very light processing. Reviews are extremely mixed. One explanation I've found is that quality control is extremely erratic. My personal guess is that it isn't as heavily processed as what we're used to getting, so fine-tuned quality control is nearly impossible.

The only alternative I've found is boiling your own. Which is supposed to be fairly involved. I found one recipe that involved heating it to 300C for a few hours in an air-tight container.

I don't have any idea how this actually works yet.

What About the Recipes?

These are the simplest that I found.

Medium Thickness: 1/3 cup wax, 1/2 cup oil

Hard Mix: 1 cup wax, 1/2 cup oil

"Fluid" mix: 1 cup oil, 1/3 cup wax

I went with beeswax. I heated it in a double boiler I improvised out of a brownie pan and soup can on a little portable stove thing. (For some reason or other, Laura didn't want me doing this in the house). I've never used a double boiler this way. I was really surprised that the water never actually boiled. It got really close, and there were a few times that it did bubble, but I think the extra heat it could have used for that got transferred into the can for the wax's state change.

It seemed to take forever to melt the first 1/3 cup of wax.

Then I sat around waiting for an entire cup to melt. I didn't think it was actually going to happen.

After it finally did, the second 1/3 cup seemed to happen very quickly.

The liquid wax congealed very quickly into the BLO. It was similar to adding lemon juice or vinegar to milk to curdle it.

I'm waiting to see how these turned out. 

What Happened to that 4:1 turpentine:lanolin?

When we uncovered the basic pieces last weekend, I had an extra jug of mineral spirits available.

The can is pretty rusty. I suspect I may have bought this back around 2002 when I briefly flirted with candle making in Nederland.

It seemed to make sense to get rid of this first.

Compared to the wax, the lanolin melted pretty much instantly. Then again, I also made a very small batch.

Where's the Story?

This part really wasn't all that interesting.

I started to set things out as a guy showed up to mow our yard. We got a break from the drought, so our grass got delusions of grandeur. We can't allow that.

This was around 4 pm, so it was hot. I decided I'd rather wait for him to finish up than force him to work around me. Plus I needed a nap.

Laura decided to go for a ride on the bike she got for D's birthday. It was supposed to be for D, but it's been sitting in our shed gathering rust for almost a year now. We broke it out the other day when we freed up space for my supplies (which is a different story). So Laura's decided that she's going to take advantage of it.

I warned Mal that we were both going outside, to try to avoid a freak-out. He vaguely acknowledged that I'd spoken.

I went outside and started puttering.

Laura's legs were jelly when she got back from her ride. Mal tried to convince her to come inside and play with him. She promised that she would, as soon as she felt like she could stand up safely.

She was in sad enough shape that she managed to convince him to go inside and fetch her some water.

Then he joined me on the back porch for a while.

After a while, he disappeared. She joined me, and we chatted until about sunset.

She turned on the porch light and brought me a headlamp so I could see what I was doing.

The bugs really liked the lamp. We've used these on walks a few times, and it's never been that bad. I don't know whether it's because we have something like a real green belt right behind our back yard or if it was due to the recent rain.

Whatever the reason, they were thick. At one point, I had at least a couple crawling on my forehead, another buzzing in my ear, and another flew up my nose.

A couple landed in the nearly boiling water. If I hadn't been so irritated with them in general, I probably would have felt worse about that.

All in all, it took about 3 hours to go from "I'm heating up the water" to "Everything is cleaned up and put away."

Sources

BLO and paint thinner vs rust