This is the third table I’ve built, and it will be the most complex, and the simplest, at the same time. It is designed to be “collapsible” so that I can set it up and take it down every day when Dad drives off to work and leaves me space to play in the garage. And by collapsible I mean it will sit on sawhorses. See? Simple.
The tabletop itself, though, is a whole other animal. This is the table that I will be pulling sheets on, and that is a very wet process. I did one batch of pulp last week as a dry-run-prove-my-setup-work sort of thing (and it does – almost), and the poor scrap of plywood I used as the tabletop will never be the same. It’s warped now, and has a furry layer of dried paper pulp drips on one side.
So the new tabletop has to be as close to totally waterproof as I can get it. I really wanted to avoid The Varnish Of Doom that I used on my first mould/deckle set, since it takes forever to cure and smells like death. That’s when my genius mother suggested linoleum. Brainwave! What a fantastic idea.
A waterproof tabletop does me no good at all if the water can just run off the sides, though. It also needs some sort of lip around the edge.
See how this is getting complicated? Just wait, there’s more!
Aside from being waterproof, I wanted this table top to be a strange shape – kind of the shape of a wingnut (does that say anything about me, in a Freudian way?). That way the vat can go in the center, and I can work on two posts of sheets at the same time. Table ergonomics – who knew!
Here is what things look like so far:
The tabletop, in all it’s odd-shaped glory
Check out the slightly OCD use of wood scraps! I think some of these are older than me.
And, after many sticky adventures in the lino glue department, I got this.
I got a remnant piece of linoleum for five bucks (sweet deal!) and pretty much winged it to get it properly glued down. I’ve laid tile before, but tiles are not three feet long and intent on curling into the glue. It was an evening filled with muttered curses, sticky fingers, and an eventual acceptance that glue smears are a fact of life.
And see those strips of wood at the top of the photo? Those are destined to be the water-catching lip. When I finally get done varnishing them, anyway.