The Literary Workshop Blog

Author Note: I drafted this post several years ago but am just now getting around to publishing it. Although I don’t make a lot of spoons anymore, I still want to share this handy technique that I’ve used over the years to fix little voids, not only in spoons but also in furniture.

If you have ever found yourself carving a spoon, and you’ve gotten down to making the final, finishing cuts only to realize that there are a couple bug holes or a bit of tear-out that’s just too deep to carve past, you know that sinking feeling that you’ll just have to toss this almost-finished utensil in the burn pile and start over. 

Or will you? 

Not all flaws are fixable, but there is a way to safely and effectively fill in some small flaws and save that nearly-finished spoon from the burn-pile. It’s a common trick that I picked up from a wood turner. 

All you need is bit of very fine-grained fill material and regular CA glue (superglue). Here’s how it works: 

First, find a good fill material. You have lots of options, and some of them are probably lying around your shop already. If you want a relatively invisible fill, try using sawdust from the species you’re working. Use a fine-toothed saw or even coarse sandpaper to produce the dust. The finer the better. You can also use organic substances, such as fine coffee grounds. I have also successfully used crushed stone–you can get many different kinds on the internet. Again, get the finest grains available. I especially enjoy using brightly colored materials that turn the flaw into a decorative feature. Just be careful, as some powdered materials (like metals) can be hazardous to work with. 

Second, use the right bonding agent. It’s just regular superglue. The thinner the better–not the gel kind.

Now for the technique. For a fairly shallow void or crack, fill it with the fill material, and mound the material up over it just a little. Flood the whole area with superglue. Let it dry completely. You can speed it up with heat from a hairdryer or heat gun. Then scrape or sand it level. You can put your finish right over it, though you should be aware that the superglue can affect how some finishes penetrate, so don’t over-saturate the surface with the superglue. You need just enough to saturate the fill material completely.

For projects with a lot of holes to fill, as on the tabletop above, I made myself a little fill-kit. The bag of sawdust is for filling in the bottom of deep holes so I don’t have to use as much of the nicer, expensive fill except at the very top. The green powder is crushed malachite stone. (Again, exercise caution in use, as it can be toxic in its powdered state.) The baby spoon is for putting the fill in precisely the right place, and the old toothbrush is for moving it around and making sure every corner of each gap is filled in before applying the superglue.

For deep voids, you may need to use a couple layers of fill. For little cracks, use the point of a knife to spread the crack a bit to allow more of the fill to enter. Then apply the superglue. With a bit of practice, you’ll figure out what works in different situations. If you need to fill a crack or void that runs into an edge, use masking tape to shore up the fill while it dries.

Once the superglue is hard and dry, I scrape the fill level with a card scraper. You can also sand it level, but it will take a lot longer. The whole process takes just a couple minutes. It really is that easy.

But how well do these fills hold up in everyday use?

Two utensils we use regularly in our kitchen

I’ve stress-tested them in my own kitchen, and I’ve found they are very durable, even on the business end of a spoon or spatula.

These glues are typically good up to about 230F, and since boiling water doesn’t get any hotter than 212F, you’re not likely to soften the glues in any kind of water-based dish. (If you’re plunging wooden spoons into boiling oil, which can get a lot hotter than water… well, please stop. You’re going to catch something on fire.)

If you really need a glue that will outlast the wood, there’s always the original JB Weld, which is good up to about 500F. The only drawback is the ugly gray color, but you can tint it with lampblack. Use a bit of soot scraped off any smooth surface that’s been near an open flame. You can use a candle flame to blacken the blade of an old butter knife if you like. Mix the soot into the epoxy, and it should turn nice and black. 

I need to emphasize that there are limits to the size/type of flaws that you can fix using this technique. It’s best for filling in small gaps–little cracks or shallow voids that would otherwise get bits of food stuck in them. It’s ideal for filling in a bug hole or two, or for filling a wide but shallow gap. But it won’t increase the structural integrity of the utensil, so make sure the utensil is good and sturdy without the fill. I don’t think I would use this technique to try to fix end-checking in the bowl of a spoon, which is the most common kind of flaw you’ll see in a wooden spoon. Not all flaws are worth trying to fix. 

But once you start using this technique on wooden spoons, I think you’ll find it very effective. And you might find it useful on other woodworking projects, too. 

Who doesn’t love a nice ribbon bookmark? Older bibliophiles will remember when many fine hardcover editions of literary classics came with a ribbon bookmark. I always loved them, though I’m afraid they aren’t as common as they used to be.

Fortunately, even if your favorite hardcover or leather-bound book doesn’t come with a ribbon bookmark–or if it doesn’t come with enough ribbons–it’s very easy to make your own ribbon bookmarks.

I learned how from a guy named Justin, who was a student of mine. A few years ago, we were both part of a theological discussion group at our university, and one day somebody noticed that Justin’s Bible had probably half a dozen ribbon bookmarks, all different colors. We were a little envious and wondered where he had gotten a Bible with so many ribbon bookmarks. He smiled and showed us how he had made them himself out of some very simple materials.

First I’ll show you how you can add the ribbon bookmark(s) to your book, and then I’ll show you how to make them.

Pretty much every book that’s not a paperback has this handy little gap at the spine. You’re going to attach your ribbons to something long and thin that you can slip into this gap.

Here’s how you do it.

First, make the slip.Use stiff poster board or a sheet of vinyl, just something thin you can punch a few holes in. You can even use a cereal box or something like that. Cut it into a long slip that will fit nicely into the book’s spine. The exact dimensions aren’t important, but if you make it about half as long as the book is tall, you can adjust the length of your bookmarks by moving it up and down inside the spine.

Now get some ribbon. I recommend the 1/4″ wide ribbon that you can get at any fabric store. You can get the wider 3/8″ size if you prefer. Be sure to choose a color and texture that you really like. I prefer plain, smooth polyester ribbon, which is soft and flexible and feels nice in the hand. Other kinds of ribbon are quite stiff or have a lot of texture, which is not ideal for a bookmark. Ribbon is not expensive, so you can get several different colors if you like.

You can attach the ribbon to your slip in many different ways. I decided to punch holes, fold the ribbon through the hole, and superglue it to itself. (I pressed it between a couple pieces of waxed paper while it dried.) You could also put the ribbon through the hole and staple the ribbon to itself. Or you could just tie it off in a little knot, which is how my student had attached his. Just make sure the ribbon can’t pull free if you tug on it a little bit.

With the ribbons attached, cut them to the proper length.

Just make sure you leave enough on either end to drop down into the spine and stick out from the pages.

I was making several of these for Christmas presents, so I put down some tape on my table to help me cut every ribbon to the same length. You may want to customize the ribbon’s length to your book’s size. And you can always leave it a bit long at first and trim it to final length once you’ve installed it in the book.

Don’t forget the singe the ends of the ribbons with a flame so they don’t ravel.

Now slip your new bookmark into the book’s spine, and you’re done!

After just a few minutes’ work, you have made a fine ribbon bookmark to mark your place in your favorite book.

But since these are so quick to make, it would be a shame to make just one. Why not make a few for your other favorite hardcover books. You could even make some as gifts for your bookish friends!

Or maybe it’s time to sit down in front of the fireplace and enjoy your favorite book, enhanced with a ribbon bookmark you made yourself.

Lectio felix! (Happy reading!)

One of our family’s favorite children’s books is called Very Worried Walrus. It was part of the Sweet Pickles books published in the late 1970s. Each book featured an animal character (such as Moody Moose or Responsible Rabbit) whose all-too-human foibles got him or her into trouble. Some of the stories are better-conceived than others, but the story of Worried Walrus is perfect. If you ever find a used copy, get it.

The premise of the story is that Walrus is about to ride his bike, but he is worried about all the things that might go wrong. His companion, Positive Pig, being of an optimistic disposition, encourages him to try anyway. Nearly the whole book is taken up with Walrus spinning out a tale of mishap upon mishap that ends with him being nearly drowned in a river and trudging miserably for endless miles at night in the rain. Of course, it’s all in his imagination, and once Pig shakes Walrus out of his self-inflicted nightmare, Walrus reluctantly gets up on his bike, starts riding, and immediately crashes. He gets up, dusts himself off, and realizes that he is fine–and that’s where the book ends.

It’s an insightful, funny lesson about the senselessness of what we now call catastrophizing. And the story has proved to be a reliable guide as I have considered the best approach to safety in the workshop, especially when I have gotten my kids involved and taught them to use my tools.

Periodically I have published articles that feature my kids participating in the craft. And every time–and I mean every time, aside from this blog–I have published an image of one of my kids doing woodworking, some well-meaning grown-up has wagged a virtual finger while providing a mini-lecture on safety.

“Shouldn’t that toy box have a soft-close support for the lid so the kids’ fingers don’t get slammed in the chest!?!”

No, sir, it shouldn’t. The kids know the lid is heavy, and they know better than to let their fingers get caught in it. Same as you. How dumb do you think my kids are?

“Shouldn’t that child be supervised while she uses those tools?!?”

Sir, where do you think I was when I took the picture? I was standing right there. Do you think these pictures just take themselves?

But my favorite safety-first reaction was when a nationally-circulating woodworking magazine ran a picture of my kids using handsaws and eggbeater drills, and one reader wrote in chiding me for not having my kids wearing safety glasses.

Sir, have you ever actually used tools like these? When was the last time you were sawing a board by hand and had a wood chip fly up and hit you in the face? How often does an eggbeater drill spray dust in your eyes? What possible use would safety glasses be in an environment like this? Do you wear steel-toed boots when picking up a package from your front porch? Do you wear welding gloves when pouring hot coffee–you know, just in case?

(My actual answer to the letter was a little more diplomatic, but that’s what I wanted to say. I feel better now. Thanks for listening.)

That letter in particular got me thinking not about injuries that could occur to my kids but ones that have actually occurred to them. I made two quick lists, one of things my kids have gotten hurt doing, and another of things my kids haven’t gotten hurt doing:

My kids have hurt themselves while…..

• Walking down stairs
• Walking up stairs
• Closing a door
• Skating
• Getting in the van
• Drinking milk
• Cuddling the cat
• Playing soccer
• Jumping on the trampoline
• Playing on a Nintendo Wii

My kids have not, however, hurt themselves while…..

• Shooting a bow and arrow
• Tending a campfire
• Sawing boards
• Handplaning boards
• Using an electric drill
• Using a sharp carving gouge

Just like everybody else, my kids have hurt themselves while doing ordinary, everyday activities, yet not once has the injury been debilitating or life-threatening. My kids actually have a superb safety record in the wood shop. We’ve had a few cuts that required Band-Aids, but that’s it.

That’s because they know the tools are sharp. When you use tools regularly and in the proper manner, you develop a respect for what they can do–both to the workpiece and to you. I remember some years ago I had ordered a new blade for a hand plane. My kids noticed that the the blade was wrapped up with paper announcing “Caution! Sharp!” I could practically hear the kids rolling their eyes. “Of course it’s sharp!” they said. “It’s a woodworking tool!”

I am not saying that I would hand a sharp carving chisel to just any 8- or 10-year-old. Children have to be gradually introduced to tools of all kinds if they are to learn to use them properly–which includes using them safely. In our house, age 10 was a rite of passage: that’s when each child got his or her first pocketknife. It’s the smallest Swiss Army Knife with a little blade, a file, and scissors. Carrying that tool around gets them used to using sharp blades to solve little real-world problems like opening boxes and snipping threads.

My wife and I also taught them how to handle pots and pans on a hot stove. When they were preteens, we assigned each one to be a kitchen assistant one night a week. That included helping with food prep, cooking, and cleanup. Now as teenagers, they can each cook a whole meal–and wash the dishes afterward–totally unsupervised.

When they were younger, my kids were shocked to learn that some of their friends still weren’t allowed to use the stove. I know their parents were just trying to keep their kids safe, but they’re also depriving their children of the opportunity to learn real-world skills. If people don’t learn to cook or clean or fix things as kids, then when are they going to learn these things at all? When they’re as big as we are? By then it’s far too late. The body may be “big enough,” but the motor skills required to deftly flip a pancake or drive in a nail won’t be there unless the skill has been practiced already. Instead, these young adults will have learned that “I don’t do that. Mom and Dad do that for me.” It’s called “learned helplessness,” and it’s debilitating.

I have discovered that many of us adults are pretty poor judges of relative risk–telling the difference between things that look risky but aren’t vs. things that don’t look risky but are likely to cause damage. I know parents who wouldn’t let their kids touch a pan on a hot stove, but they’ll give their kid a smartphone and allow hours of unsupervised access to the internet and social media. But let that kid try to saw a board in half with a handsaw, and we immediately run up and try to put safety goggles on him.

I promise I’m not an advocate of free-range parenting. I’m just not into smothering children. I want my kids to grow up into mature, responsible, independent adults who know how to use tools to solve real-world problems. Learning how to do that involves taking little risks here and there. No risk, no learning.

When I’m deciding when to allow my kids to take risks, I have found it useful to think through the worst-case scenario. Not in an “Oh-my-gosh-that-looks-so-dangerous!!!” way, but in a “what is really the worst that is likely to actually happen?” way. In other words, given the laws of physics and the tendencies of human nature, what is the worst thing that could go wrong here?

At the stove, it’s a burn, a cut, possibly some broken glass–nothing that you or I haven’t had happen to us in our own kitchens from time to time, and nothing that first-aid can’t take care of. It’s the same with most hand-powered tools. With a hand saw, for example, it would be very difficult to inflict an injury on yourself that couldn’t be treated with a Band-Aid. A chisel used inappropriately could send you to the ER for a few stitches–and I know because I’ve done it to myself! But that’s about the worst accident that’s likely to happen.

There are, of course, other kinds of woodworking that are far more dangerous, like ripping thin boards on a table saw or cutting up a fallen tree with a chainsaw. Those are activities that, if something goes catastrophically wrong, could leave you permanently disabled.

Then again, so can driving a car. But somehow, I’m guessing that if I posted a picture of a 15-year-old kid using my chainsaw (even with proper safety gear) I would get a few safety-mongers wagging their fingers, even though that same kid can be legally allowed to guide a 1-ton piece of metal at the rate of over a mile a minute down a concrete path within mere feet of other, similar machines, many of which are being operated by people who could well be texting or drunk–as long as I’m sitting next to her.

In reality, we take reasonable risks like driving and cooking every day because we know those activities are worthwhile and necessary, and because we have developed the skills to do these things fairly safely. We didn’t learn those skills by avoiding those activities. At some point, we had to put the car in gear. We had to turn on the stove. That’s why I think it’s really important for kids to grow up using basic tools of all kinds: hammers and nails, drills and screws, saws and hatchets, wrenches and screwdrivers, without grown-ups trying to wrap them up in unnecessary safety gear. They also need to know how to use pots and pans, spatulas and kitchen knives. And they need to know how to use that most basic tool of all–fire. Because soon they will grow up and need these skills, and I won’t always be there to supervise them.

Life is harder than it looks. Cooking, woodworking, even just tending a fire–these things aren’t easy. When you first start building fires, you will be surprised that the trick isn’t usually to keep it from spreading and burning down the whole neighborhood; the trick is to keep it going at all. On a screen, a few swipes or taps or clicks in the right order will usually get you the results you want, whether it’s the image of a fire onscreen or a fast-food meal delivered to your doorstep. But if you want a real fire or a real meal, you’ve got to learn to use the tools yourself. No risk, no learning.

Take something as basic as flipping a fried egg in a skillet. It’s a simple thing, but it takes practice with tools that, if used inappropriately, can hurt you. Because the egg will not simply conform to your will just because you want it to flip. It seems to me that we are raising a generation of kids who think that tasks are supposed to be easy, that the egg is somehow going to flip by itself–or that Mom will always be there to flip the egg for them–or that flipping an egg is as easy in real life as it was on that cute restaurant game they played on the iPad as kids. But in real life, if they want a nicely cooked egg, they’re going to have to spend some time right next to a hot stove burner.

What’s the worst that is likely to happen if we let them try cooking over a hot stove? Maybe a burn or a cut.

But what’s the worst that is likely to happen if we don’t let them try to cook or use a sharp tool or light a fire? A lifetime of dependence, an irrational fear of minor injuries, and a complete lack of real-life skills. I don’t want to run the risk of my kids not learning how to cook meals or do simple household repairs, even if that means we go through a box of Band-Aids every so often.

You and I are going to disagree about exactly how much safety to impose on our kids, and that’s okay. Families are different, and kids are different from each other. I’ve known 8-year-olds that I would trust with a chef’s knife and 16-year-olds that I wouldn’t trust with a Q-Tip. You have to use reasonable judgment in these things.

What I’m asking for here is that we apply the virtue of moderation to our sense of safety. Of course we should take reasonable safety precautions, but that doesn’t mean that all precautions are reasonable. Some are unreasonable. Reasonable safety precautions are those that are focused on preventing the most common and the most catastrophic accidents, and that allow the work to be done in a reasonably effective and efficient way. There is such a thing as being too safety-conscious. You know you’re trying to be too safe if (1) you are trying to protect yourself or others from threats that don’t actually exist, or if (2) your safety precautions are more likely to cause harm than to prevent it.

A classic example is the guy who insists on wearing work gloves while using the band-saw. Wearing gloves sounds safer than sending a board through a moving blade bare-handed, right? Wrong. Because the moment that blade hits the glove, it will pull the glove down into the machine and probably pull your finger down with it. Better to use the band-saw bare handed and risk a few splinters or even a nick with the blade itself.

In the same way, if you’re going to teach your kids to cook at the stove (and you should), why not have a fire extinguisher in the kitchen, too? And make sure everyone knows that it’s okay to use it!

When we are learning a new skill, we all need a generally safe environment in which to take small, limited risks in which the worst-case scenario isn’t catastrophic, and in which other people aren’t constantly on the verge of panic because they are imagining everything that could possibly go wrong. No risk, no learning.

But if we allow our children to take smaller, reasonable risks in the process of learning valuable skills, they stand a good chance of growing up to be capable, independent people who can be trusted to get the job done, instead of becoming young Worried Walruses who are paralyzed with fear about all the horrible things that might go wrong if they pick up a drill or turn on the stove.