A large number of months ago my sister-in-law asked if I could make a frame for this.

Don’t ask me exactly what it is. I’m not quite sure, but it’s very cool. (EDIT: Vetti has enlightened me: “it’s a vintage toy meant to teach kids how to tell time – I gave it to them when the kids came along”). Of course I said I would be happy to make a frame, then proceeded to do nothing for far too long.

Eventually, I got moving on the project and chose this piece of timber from a table I salvaged from hard rubbish a few years ago. I had no idea what it would look like once cleaned up so I crossed my fingers and hit it with a handplane or two.

It was a nice light timber underneath. Not pine – it’s too hard for that, but I don’t know enough to give a positive identification. Here it is during glue up.

I made a fairly deep frame so it could stand upright if desired and chose to add little redgum plugs on top of the dowels used to reinforce the mitred joints.

The plugs turned out quite well once trimmed and sanded a bit.

A couple of coats of danish oil and some wax to top it off and the job’s done. All I have to do now is deliver it.

Wherever you happen to be reading it now, Jonathan published this post at: BookBoy.net

Last night I turned the TV to SBS, settled down on the couch and closed my eyes, ready to let the familiar voices of Phil Liggett and Paul Sherwen wash over me with their description of the Tour. What I got was someone else talking. That’s right – someone else. Thankfully, before too long Phil and Paul were back and the world was back as it should.

I know I’m not alone in enjoying listening to Phil Liggett. There’s something about his commentary that just simply works. On a trip to Tasmania some years ago we happened to be in Hobart for a criterium stage of the Tour of Tasmania. For those who don’t know, a criterium consists of multiple laps around a small street circuit so you are able to stay in one spot and see most of the race. This was in the days when Cadel Evans was still a mountain biker making the transition to road racing. As a big Cadel fan I was pretty excited to see him race, but do you want to know the best part of the day?

Phil Liggett.

That’s right. The commentator was my highlight. Never mind that Cadel was there. Never mind that Phil Anderson, one of the all-time greats of Australian cycling was there managing Cadel’s team. For me, Phil Liggett stole the show. He knows his stuff, he communicates well. He just works.

He had a microphone, a loudspeaker and a hat.

There were two cyclists making a break from the front of the pack and for part of the race Phil was talking to them as much as to us. To encourage them on the road, he called for the crowd to put money in his hat. This money would be given to the two cyclists if they managed to lap the field. They didn’t manage to do it, and I don’t remember, or never knew what happened to the money in the end, but it was brilliant. It got me cheering for two guys whose names I can’t remember and probably could never pronounce and made the race come alive in a different way. Not because I put money in. Not because I was going to get anything out of it. Just because it was fun. And because it was Phil Liggett.

For the record, I wouldn’t even mind if Phil kept the money – he earned it.

I could go on, but it’s 10pm and the telecast is about to begin. But here’s a little something to help get you in the mood for The Tour:

Wherever you happen to be reading it now, Jonathan published this post at: BookBoy.net

Apart from the early days using a cassette player to load games onto our Sinclair Spectrum and an occasional flirtation with Warcraft I’ve not really been one to play games on my computer.

But the thought of having this sitting on my desk is almost enough to make me turn.

Wherever you happen to be reading it now, Jonathan published this post at: BookBoy.net

One of my non book related interests is cycling. I don’t ride as much as I like, but still call myself a keen cyclist. Some years ago I added a trials bike to my stable. I was never very good at trials.

If I could be magically endowed with one talent, it would be to be able to write a bunch of really good books, or maybe even one.

If I ever achieve that, the one talent I would wish for would be to do this (especially the move off the tree at about the 3:07 mark):

Wherever you happen to be reading it now, Jonathan published this post at: BookBoy.net