Thread: the worst woodworking day or dumbest thing you have done

They say you can learn by observing....well not always.

I watched a mate, a panelbeater, weld without a mask when doing some small welds. I figured you could do this if you didn't do it for a long time.

Well I had some small welds on my tinnie so I thought I could use my mates method. So I did.

Come 11pm I was screaming in pain. I wonder why?

Told my mate and he was laughing so hard he was crying. He closed his eyes when he was welding (still stupid) but I couldn't see that now could I.

Originally Posted by Zed

...I reckon he hates me now... .

& that's your worried look right?

Originally Posted by Zed

.....frigging road rules imho are absolute bollocks!......

I found a good spot (safe) to see 80K over today. Not bad in a corolla, pity it's "More than 40km/h over the speed limit:$A700 + 8 demerit points and 6 month suspension"

Originally Posted by Zed

...Ok - fire away.

OK Zed, You're fired.... You forgot to ask him 'why he wasn't out catching some criminals?'

Originally Posted by boban

Come 11pm I was screaming in pain. I wonder why?

HWMNBO did this to himself, willingly, twice!!!!!! His reason - couldn't see what I was doing as the helmet and my head wouldn't fit in the space close to where I was welding!!!!!

First time - fine, off to emergency we go, 2 am in the morning , home by 4 am, up at 6 am to go to work, insert yawning sleepy head here.

Second time - :mad: grrrrr, off to emergency we go, 3 am this time. I decided to be 'nice' and guide him, but when we got to the reception desk, I 'forgot' to say "stop, there's a wall there"...........

needless to say, he hasn't flashed his eyes like that again

cheers
RufflyRustic

RR,
you can get welding "helmets" which are a leather hood with a lense attached. These allow you to weld in really confined spaces - don't forget to have somebody watching the operator in case they need rescuing or resuscitation :eek: and provide forced air ventilation.

Mick

Good advice Mick, thanks!

RR

Originally Posted by rufflyrustic

needless to say, he hasn't flashed his eyes like that again

cheers
RufflyRustic

so how does he flash now??

Originally Posted by echnidna

Just finished making 30 picture frames.

Guess What?

23 are the wrong size !!

Cant you just trim the pictures to fit the undersized frames??

Originally Posted by doug the slug

so how does he flash now??

That would be telling , let's just say that we are happily coming up to our 2nd wedding anniversary in October.

cheers
RufflyRustic

Originally Posted by rufflyrustic

That would be telling , let's just say that we are happily coming up to our 2nd wedding anniversary in October.

cheers
RufflyRustic

Ruffly, i will have been with my lovely lady for 2 years on 6 september

Several years ago, as a teenager, I was watching and learning the fine art of woodworking from my Father. Dad was a trucker who was home very little. The index finger on his right hand had been cut off at the last knuckle when he was a toddler, leaving a one inch stub. Dad was going to rip a one and a half inch wide piece of material on his handy tablesaw. As he was getting close the the blade, he was watching his thumb very closely as not to get it in the blade. He was watching his thumb so closely that he didn't realize his middle finger had rotated over the top of the blade at the last second. I saw it coming but couldn't say anything quick enough. The end of his middle finger zinged over the top of the blade. Dad was jumping up and down holding his finger, afraid to look at it. "Dirty rotten !**&*&*!*&#&*#*, I cut my other @!#&^(^*&^(*ing finger off!" I knew he had just knicked the end of the finger and I was laughing so hard I just about peed my pants, which, of course, made things much worse. When my Dad passed several years ago my Brother and I were called upon to clean out his shop. We had quite a laugh when we came upon a box holding all the brand new safety guards for all the tools he had purchased over the years.

As I stated earlier, my Father was a trucker, and home very little. Mom wanted an addition built on the back of the house for and extra bedroom for me. Dad had the addition framed in and the roof on one Sunday afternoon and promptly disappeared. His tools were all put away in the garage and he was just plain gone. About 2 am the next morning my Brother an I were awakened by a tap on our bedroom window. It was Dad finding his way home from his favorite watering hole. As I was about to get up to let him in, my Mom, standing in the dark doorway, said; "Don't you dare!" Apparently she had locked the poor guy out to teach him a lesson. After a short silence I heard some scraping and scratching outside and suddenly the sound of his saw running. Then a crash and there was my Dad standing in a hole in the wall of our new addition. He smiled and said; "We needed a door there anyway." Dad promptly went to bed. Needless to say, Mom and Dad had very little conversation for quite a while after that event, but it finally blew over.

Last Friday arvo, heard from SWMBO that her hairdresser was felling a pear tree and planning on giving it away as firewood. A quick phone-call led to to a visit of said hairdresser that same night...

She & her hubby were subdiv'ing the back of their lot which used to be an orchard some 40-50 years ago and they were clearing several old trees, including the pear, a lemon, an apple and a cherry. They'd already felled a humongous preposterous (ummm... a pittosperum? sp?) and hubby was out back billeting it. So, I wandered outside to have a chat and ogle the potential shed-filler... and WOW! These trees were old. There and then I told hubby not to bother cutting down to pot-belly size... 4' lengths would fit my trailer nicely. To sweeten the deal, I offered to fell the fruit trees myself. Of course, he accepted: it needed to be done and who wants to waste a weekend toiling in their own back yard?

In leaving I grabbed a couple of small pieces of preposterous to try sampling. I wanted to see if it was worth keeping, or best passed off onto my woodclub sucke^H^H^Hbuddies. So, on arriving home, I promptly rough turned a goblet and then painstakingly sat in front of the microwave for 3 blasted hours nuking the thing for 50 secs every 10 mins to "force cure" it. Amazingly, it seemed to work even though I've no great experience in nuking timber.,

First thing yesterday morning, Saturday, I rechucked it and finished it off. 'Twas amazing stuff to work, turning as though uncured albeit without the shower of sap, an amazing grain coming through. Lovely swirls of caramel & vanilla, a truly beautiful piece. Being so workable, I managed the finest, most delicate looking goblet I've ever done, easily my best by far. After a bit of consideration though, I decided not to apply a finish straight away, placing it near a heater duct for the rest of the day to see how prone it'd be to checking & warping. After all, it'd been hanging off the tree less than 18 hours previous and it looked too good to be true.

Last night, after 12 hours next to the duct it was still intact so I took it back to the shop and applied an Organoil finish, sanding down to 1800 grit. This was definitely a work of art! I was sooooo proud of it, but I decided to give it to the hairdresser as a thankyou. And, I s'pose, a bit of "see what I can do." All in all, yesterday was a great day, everything went better than I could've hoped for. And I also decided that at least a trailer load of preposterous would find a new home in my drying shed.

First thing this morning I arranged for a few mates to assist in the felling. Half-way there, got a call from one with a flat battery, so I did the mates' thing and went to his assistance. Stoopid, stoopid, stoopid. 2 hours later, I finally managed to pull up at the hairdressers.

The other blokes'd gotten sick of waiting and had already felled the trees, they were working at slice'n'dicing 'em to length. Went to get my chain-saw and join the game and... it's still at home! OK, so I'm now delegated to moving the billets down to the front yard while the other boys played with their toys. [sigh] In her disdain for the plans of man, Ma Nature decided today was a good day to rain. All day, on and off. Mainly in buckets. Some 8m3 of backache later, along with enough foliage to fill two semis, it comes time to divvy up the spoils. The blokes who brought their toys got first pick, which was fair as they paid for the fuel after all, then I selected mine and what was left was allocated to the "club pile." Which'd be stored at my place until the members picked it up 'cos I'd arranged things... Somehow that didn't seem quite so fair, but I was willing to go along with it.

OK, loaded up the trailers, got ready to head home when I was reminded about the goblet. Uhoh... guess what I'd put next to my chainsaw so I'd remember to bring... A half-hour trip home, more back-ache unloading and sorting the timbers, then I grabbed the goblet, kicked the chainsaw and headed back to give the hairdresser my latest pride'n'joy. Pulled up in their drive, picked up the goblet, opened the car-door and promptly slipped on the wet drive. Fell flat on my ****, in a puddle of course, also belting my head on the car door. Staggered upright, one hand going to each end. A quick rub to both, my butt was wringing wet. Wetter than the rest of me, at any rate. A quick glance at my hand to make sure 'twas just water and not mud... no, of course not. Blood! Looked at the ground and there was most of my beautiful, fragile, work of art. Another grope of the back of my pants and there was the rest of it. Funny how I didn't feel any pain until I knew that I should. Then it hurt enough to make up for it.

Didn't bother knocking, just gathered what dignity I had left, got back in the car and came home. I can't sit down comfortably, I've got the sniffles and I've done my back in. I know from experience it'll be a few days before the back's up to earning a quid. All for a few lumps of wood. I don't understand it; yesterday was such a good day and I haven't mutilated any babes or children this week. Not even any cruel and unusual punishment. So it can't be karma. Can it? :confused:

I hope those lumps of wood were worth it Skew!

Oh, yes. They were worth it. The sniffles dried up, the back eased and, although sitting's a pain it doesn't stop me from firing up the lathe. My wood supply still overfloweth though.

However I do regret the loss of that goblet; it was a really good day when I turned that and the pieces I've done since aren't in the same league. SWMBO has told me to go buy my own microwave though... I really should get back to turning my cured stock instead of trying to reproduce the goblet!