Many Thanks

I’m grateful for a lot of things.

There is no way for me to tell who does it, but people do use the Amazon search box you’ll find in the right sidebar, and also the various Amazon links I append to entries about this and that. I get a little commission and a stream of income from it, and it doesn’t add anything to the price of things purchased.

Of course, I sell the furniture I make over there in the sidebar too, and many of my readers are my best customers. I still make all of it myself, out of raw materials and elbow grease, and am gratified each and every time I sell something. It’s especially nice to get emails from hither and yon with some feedback.

  • The new tables are so incredibly beautiful that my whole house now looks tacky. There should be warnings on your website that these consequences might occur! (Diane)
  • Many thanks for a beautiful table!  We will continue to watch your site! (Barry and JJ)
  • The tables you made for us are terrific and work perfectly in our
    bedroom, we love them!  Thanks so much for making them for us and
    shipping them to the Vineyard. Beautiful! We love the tiger maple tops
    with the off white legs. (Judy)
  • I was totally delighted with
    my purchase from Sippican Cottage Furniture. The proprietor corresponded
    with me personally to let me know when my item shipped. The item was
    packaged tightly and securely and arrived in time for the event for
    which it was purchased, and the product was even more beautiful than
    pictured on the web site. Definitely a positive experience! (Phoebe)

Lots of people compliment me on the packaging. I think they’re used to having things delivered broken. It’s more expensive to ship a fully assembled table than flat-pack stuff, of course, but isn’t your time worth something? Most people are too busy to put together their own furniture, and nothing put together with a little wrench is likely to last very long. Packaging for mass-produced goods gets whittled down to its barest essence, and often doesn’t last the trip. The disappointment of a busted anything coming out of a shipping box exceeds just the money involved. We avoid it like the plague by packaging smart and sturdy. My wife and I do it together. It’s as close to a date as we get these days, I guess. 

I especially like it when people send me pictures of the stuff in use, and most especially love the pictures of the youngins using their furniture. Look at Andy’s beautiful children, using their Super Ten Finger Stepper to hang their Halloween decorations.

Andy wrote to me along with the picture, prompted by my waxing poetic about getting a muffin and a cup of coffee like I was sitting in the electric chair and the governor called:

What we give to others is precious, indeed. In pursuit of that
sentiment, I thought I would update you on the development of your
stepper under the care of my children.  It is coming along swimmingly,
and shows much promise toward a long existence of cheerful utility.  The
darn thing can’t help itself from wanting to help everyone else. 

It’s the children that remind you what you’re trying to do. “It is a meager thing, but mine own.”

So thanks, everybody, for reading and commenting and buying my book
,and purchasing my furniture and pressing on my links and being my Interfriends.

Good Housekeeping

It’s come to my attention that things need tidying up around this here Cottage. Loose ends, frayed nerves I always say.

Actually, I never say that, except that one time in the first paragraph. Pithy, isn’t it. I’m a pither.

If you’re new around here, I make things. Furniture. I had a little sale yesterday. I sold five tables before noon. They’re already on the FedEx truck on the way to their new owners. Thanks to everyone who bought one. Everyone that’s ever bought one, now that I think of it.

I made them from trees from right down the street. I don’t know why, but I get a little grin out of that. Every tree has end tables in it. You just have to let them out.

I don’t have all that many tables to sell most days. I make the items for the Ready to Ship page while I’m making other furniture from Made to Order orders. I think the work I’m currently doing is turning out better than ever. I’ve made many dozens of these end tables, but none better:

They went to Martha’s Vineyard. Pleasant customer. I made a console table for Phil the other day, too, and it turned out well. I was proud to put it in the box.

Speaking of the box, I get a lot of praise for the boxes the tables come in. I get a tickle from that, too, because I rather enjoy packaging the items. I’m not sure what people are expecting, but they seem pleasantly surprised when the items show up in one piece. My wife and I do the packaging together, and it’s fun. My wife is my best friend, too. I work all alone the rest of the time.

Sippican Cottage Furniture is a national brand. I think that’s a hoot, too. When I send out an email notification of a sale, the email service shows me a map of where my emails get opened. I love utilities like that.

I’ve sold furniture to seven or eight states more than pictured on the map, but if  North and South Dakota have any inhabitants, you can’t tell by me. The email service I use is MailChimp. They are terrific, and lots of fun. My little son hangs around my desk when I have the service open because they have a chimp mascot that leaves amusing messages for you while you work. Everything about the service is charming, but still professional. That’s hard to do. If you’re not on our email list, but would like to be, you can sign up at the top of any page at Sippican Cottage Furniture.

I’m grateful to everyone that reads here, and those that comment, and those that link. There is no way for me to tell who’s doing it, but very nice persons are actually using my Amazon search box, and I’d like to thank you,  whoever you are, for it.

I’ll have a book for you to buy soon. Hope you will.

Things I Have In Common With Warren Buffett — Exhibit A

We’ve both been interviewed by Furniture Today. Buffett owns a furniture store, too. Sorry, Warren; they wanted my opinion five years ago.



Poor Warren. Wandering the earth for all those years, burdened with all that money, and it took him decades to work up the nerve to finally admit to himself that no man can be happy without his own furniture business.

Anyway, I have two terrible, dark secrets to reveal. You guys won’t tell anyone, will you? I sorta not-quite knew Eliot and Barry Tatelman, the brothers that inherited the business Buffett bought from them. Twenty-five years ago they were going through some sort of midlife crisis and were taking drum lessons from a friend of mine in Hopkinton, Mass. I was young and trying to make half my living playing music at the time. I was playing bass with anyone that had paying gigs. If you play the bass and sing a little, you can always work. There was an open mike night at Liam’s Irish Tavern in Framingham on Mondays, and I never could find work on Monday nights anyway, and the dissolute and mildly skeevy fellow that ran it needed a “house band” to play with all the flotsam and jetsam that came in. I’d been playing weddings in Connecticut with him for some reason or other, and he asked me to do it. For no money, just free drinks. I told him I knew the bartender and got free drinks already. He said all the other guys did it for free. I said to have fun with all the other guys. I knew he was getting paid.

We hit on a solution. He desperately needed someone to bring a drum set. If he allowed an amateur to bring a drum set, he’d have to let him play all night, and anyone that would haul an entire trap set up those stairs for no money would surely be awful and make for a long night for everybody else. So a friend who played drums gave me the remains of an old cheap red sparkle drum set he hadn’t used since the British Invasion, and I hauled it into Liam’s on Mondays, and later I bought a real drum set at Jack’s across from Berklee, and took a few drum lessons from that fellow I told you about that mostly took care of horses but taught drums on the side. 

I’ve been haunted by the specter of these two unholy secrets my whole life. I must come clean.

A. I’m sorry fellows, but Jay lied when he told you no one was getting paid; he paid me fifty bucks to bring those drums and play maybe two or three songs on them and then drink for free and play darts all night, and I’m not even a drummer. But I couldn’t tell anyone I was getting paid. I was just like Arianna Huffington, only I don’t think she even owns drums.

B. Hey, Eliot and Barry: that guy was charging you triple what he charged me.

Ad Hoc? I Invented It. Six Homemade Tools

I make furniture all day, but I still gots no money; that doesn’t explain my ad hoc infection, exactly. In construction and related disciplines, you’re always making props and jigs and what-have-yous for the situation at hand, and you adopt it for a way of life after a while. People from the delicate arts (that don’t want to admit they are) talk endlessly about duct tape because they think it makes them sound manly, but duct tape is more a symptom that you have no idea what to do than an indication you do, and are all manly and so forth. This stuff isn’t a patch.

Woodworking catalogs rely on people that don’t ultimately make much buying expensive things with which to not make those things more easily. Parse that sentence, college boy. Anyway, here’s a half-dozen examples of things I made that are better than things you can buy.

1. Clamping Jig – Clamps are really expensive. I’m awful if I ever see Norm making anything on that commendable show he had. Just ask my wife. “He’s making a four-dollar tabletop with four thousand dollars-worth of clamps!”  She just nods and smiles. This is why we don’t have cable. Here’s how I make glue-ups. Iron pipe with pony clamps and pads, with the whole shebang hung on the wall to save space and my back. The galvanized pipes on the right don’t leave marks on anything delicate like the black iron pipes on the left do. They should all be galvanized, but I’m cheap. BTW, that benchtop blank in the clamps will be on sale by Friday.

2. Stickers  – Stickers is an actual woodworking term, not an ad hoc one. The little bits of wood you place between boards to allow air to circulate all around them, and helps to keep wood from warping from having only one side exposed to the air, are called stickers. I make my own, hundreds of them, from little bits and pieces of off-cut wood. I use them for all sorts of things; Keeping things up off a surface when painting, props, jigs, etc. I have to test my branding iron on something before I use it on your furniture, so they all end up with one or forty SIPPICANs burned into them. The really old ones are all mellow with shellac overspray and smooth from a million hands.They’re all eleven inches long. I only measured the first one. (See item 6)

3. Featherboards – Here’s one of eleventy-jillion I’ve made. A piece of wood will go forward through a featherboard’s little wooden fingers, but will not back up. A safe way to hold wood against a fence and not have it thrown at you by the blade. I make them often, in different sizes for different setups. I suppose I could put the sacrificial wooden fence you see on the table saw on this list, too, but I’m lazy. One of the main bad ideas of most pre-made jigs you buy is too much metal near the blades, and for some reason, too much plastic everywhere else. I don’t want metal things hitting metal things. Then hitting me.This is woodworking, not the artillery.

4. The Push Stick – All woodworkers on TV are liars. They say: the blade guard is removed so the camera can see the work. Lies. All lies. They’re in the trash. Guard or no, never, NEVER put your hand between the blade and the fence. Did I mention NEVER? I push everything through the blade with a push stick. It’s got a little hook in it to hold things down as well as shove them. Stuff gets thrown at you more than any other danger you’ll encounter on a tablesaw. This push stick is about eight years old, I think. It’s a testament to the veracity of my NEVER claim that I still have this one after all this time, despite living in two different states. It is ALWAYS on my fence, so I can NEVER.

5. Tapering Jig – They sell adjustable ones that are made from steel for a lot of money. You must have been dropped on your head as a baby to push a steel anything through a table saw right next to the blade. Upon reflection, you were probably dropped on your head as an adult, too. I have dozens of these jigs, each made special for a particular tapered leg. They’re very safe, and made from garbage. Like bacon!

6. Stop Block – It’s just a leftover from a table apron or something. You clamp it to a fence and cut the same thing over and over. Measure twice, cut once! says the TV. Measure once, set the stop block, and cut 145 times, I say. Measuring twice is for dilettantes.

So, there you go. I make all sorts of things with near nothing. You have near nothing, too, I suspect, or can lay your hands on it. Make something!

Tag: furniture

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