a table

Finally, I have a table! 

I live in a small cabin, where space is tight enough that furniture has to multitask. My timber-framing sawhorses serve as seats, stepladders, and makeshift tables. Anything permanent is pushed to the walls, leaving an open space of about eight by eight feet. I've valued that space immensely. I can swing, or stretch, or lay down a tarp and butcher a moose.

My equivalent of the kitchen counter -- the place I spend nearly all my time, and where a guest would choose to sit -- is the wood stove (not at, but next to). It's an OK set up, but I guess there comes a time when a guy wants a table. I designed at least six in Google SketchUp, some bulky and stout, others with Scandinavian curves, most completely deconstructable. The one I finally made is Shaker-inspired, simple and light, and built with leftover rough-cut 2x6s and finished 1x6s. The frame does not come apart. Now, with the third coat of polyurethane drying, I'm almost ready to like it. My eye still fixes on the corner of the top that's not quite flat, but I haven't wanted to burn or otherwise destroy it like some things I've made that I've later come to like. I mostly eyeballed the shape, with some thought given to usage. When the paint is dry, I'll get to see if it's too wide for cribbage or too narrow for dinner with friends. I think it will be perfect for reading the paper with breakfast.

For crafty readers, an explanation: building a table seems to be a lot about keeping the legs vertical (and hence square). Two or four legs, you either need to brace them near the bottom or make the attachment to the top as sturdy as possible, usually with skirting, as I think it's called. I did the latter, and did it the old-fashioned way, with morticed legs and tenons on the ends of the skirting. (Fred Meyer and Pier One tables use diagonal braces screwed into the skirting and legs.) I glued the joints and tapped in pegs made from an oak dowel. There's no hardware in the frame. 

I read somewhere that the top should be attached in the middle (assuming the laminated planks run lengthwise) to allow movement with drying. I tried to build tension into the tabletop by giving it a slight convex arc, hoping to make the edges tight as I pulled the center down -- and because a slightly rounded tabletop seemed better than a slightly sunken one. The idea might have been sound, but my execution was a little sloppy (nothing is quite planar in my cabin, let alone regularly convex) and I needed a few more screws to hold the top tight.