Storing tools so they are there next time
A tool board works because a missing tool leaves a visible hole. Drawers and boxes hide what is absent until the moment it is needed, which is always the moment when looking for it is most expensive.
a working notebook of small house projects, one room at a time
Every entry in this notebook in date order, each with the plate drawn for it. Albums group the same entries by the kind of work.
A tool board works because a missing tool leaves a visible hole. Drawers and boxes hide what is absent until the moment it is needed, which is always the moment when looking for it is most expensive.
Concealed fixings work by cantilevering a steel rod out of the wall and sliding the shelf over it. All the load runs through a short length of rod and the wall it is anchored into, which means the wall has to be genuinely solid and the holes have to be genuinely straight.
The decision has to be made before the first fixing goes in, because it changes where everything else sits. Level is the right answer where objects will roll, where a shelf continues a line set by something else already level, or where the run is short enough that the discrepancy stays invisible.
Any project with repeated parts - shelf uprights, fence pickets, drawer sides - rewards the twenty minutes spent making a jig far more than it rewards care with a tape measure. Cumulative error is the problem: each measurement carries a small reading error and a small pencil-line error, and those errors do not cancel out.
Cut across the fibres and what is exposed is thousands of open tube ends. They take up finish far faster than a face does, which is why a stained shelf end goes almost black while the face stays the intended colour, and why paint sinks into a cut edge and leaves it dull.
The temptation with a cracked wall is to load the filler in and move on to the colour. Almost every patch that later shows through a finished coat failed at one of two points: the hole was not opened up enough, or the surrounding paint was still loose when the filler went on.
Paint sold as matt, eggshell, satin and gloss sits on a continuous scale rather than in four boxes, and different makers place their boundaries in different places. The only reliable comparison is a set of brush-outs made at the same time, on the same substrate, under the light of the room they are intended for.
The usual failure is to load a brush, aim it at the junction and try to steer. The bristles carry too much paint at the start of the run and too little at the end, so the line is thick and wandering for the first hand span and dry and skipping by the last.
The first tile placed sets every other one, so it is worth an hour of dry laying before any adhesive is mixed. The aim is to arrange the cuts, because the cuts are what people notice: a room with a full tile at one wall and a two-centimetre slither at the other reads as badly planned even to someone who has never laid a tile.
A joint that matches the tile makes a surface read as a single field. A joint that contrasts turns the same tiles into a visible grid.
A sealant joint moves. Bath, tray and worktop all shift slightly with load and temperature, and the joint's only job is to accommodate that movement while staying attached at both sides.
The obvious path is the meeting rail in the middle, where the two sashes pass one another. It is the one people feel with a hand and the one draught strip is usually aimed at.
Water enters where fibres are cut and where two pieces meet. A porch post that looks sound along its length will often be soft in the last few centimetres at the bottom, because that is where the end grain stands in whatever collects on the surface below it.
The stop is the thin bead on the frame that the door closes against. Fitted a fraction too far back, the door has to travel past its latch position to touch it, so it rattles.
Timber takes up moisture from the air and swells across the grain. A door that is tight only in damp weather is doing exactly what timber does, and planing it to fit in August produces a door with a visible gap for the rest of the year.
New mortar pressed into a shallow scrape has almost no key and falls out within a season or two. The rule of thumb is to rake back to roughly twice the joint width, so the new material has depth to grip, and to rake square rather than to a feathered edge.
The visible layer is the least important one. A compacted sub-base of adequate depth, laid on ground that has had the soft material dug out of it, is what stops the paving sinking in wheel tracks and along the edges.