Anatomy of a Project, Part I

Let’s follow a project of mine from (nearly) the beginning, through to as far as I take it.  Since the project is, as yet, barely started, this will be the first of a series.

I’m not really certain when I got interested in making jewelry. I mean, I’ve entertained the notion of taking up silversmithing classes for probably over a decade. I’ve toyed with the notion of casting (starting with pewter, and working my way up to precious metals) for nearly as long. But gems and stones, particularly cutting and polishing, that’s a fairly new one. Maybe two or three years? But I finally decided to act on that one a few months ago.

The root of the idea was wondering how exactly bezel settings worked–probably based on admiring some of the lovely Anglo-Saxon “gold-and-garnet” jewelry that’s been found. It struck me that the garnet pieces were certainly shaped and polished, and I began thinking about that. I know that precious stones are “lapped” (faceted) using fancy setups with spinning abrasive discs, using finely-tuned armatures to ensure the “proper” angles to the various faces. I reasoned that the first faceted stones probably were lapped and polished by hand, with a somewhat more “organic” form. So I set about to figure out how they did it.

YouTube, one of my normal “how would I…” starting points, was rather mum on the subject. There are several videos about lapping gems, all using modern tools. There are a couple of videos about making homemade modern lapping tools… Just when I thought all was lost, I found one video on polishing and faceting gemstones by hand, using no power tools. Not historical, but it was a start, and told me it could be done.

The next typical online stops for this sort of project include Cariadoc’s Miscellany and Stefan’s Florilegium, two great repositories of knowledge, sources, and information. The Miscellany is a series of essays, classes, documents, papers, and such by one of the more famous people in the SCA, Duke Cariadoc of the Bow. The Florilegium, meanwhile, is a curated compilation of email discussions from various SCA forums, dating from the early days of computer bulletin boards and such. Both pointed me at several books; the Miscellany was extra helpful and gave me some quotes.

One of these sources, which I was able to get my hands on fairly quickly, was Theophilus’ treatise On Divers Arts, which in addition to covering all sorts of metalworking has a chapter on polishing gemstones. Theophilus recommends using powdered emery stone and water on a copper plate as the abrasive; the runoff is collected in a basin and allowed to settle and dry. Afterwards, the powder is sprinkled on a flat limewood board and wet with saliva; this is used to polish the gem.

As it happens, I have access to emery powder (available as filler for making pincushions) and a copper plate that I acquired for a different project some time ago. “Limewood” is probably the same wood that we would call “basswood,” and is available in most craft stores.

Iolite and Carnelian Agate for the Faceting Project
Two Iolite on the left, four Carnelian Agate on the right.

Rough gem material is available from many sources on EBay and Amazon; I have some Carnelian Agate, some Fire Quartz, and some Iolite readily at hand, and if I get decent results with these, I’ll get some others.

In the interest of following the guidelines from the YouTube video, I’ve got an assortment of wet/dry sandpaper, and I’ll use that to give it a go.

Sandpaper assortment
Assortment of Wet-Dry Sandpaper

My theory is that they’ll work more quickly than the emery; we’ll see how they go.

Additionally, knowing that some stones–the harder ones, such as any of the corundum (ruby and sapphire), and a few others–are likely to be very slow to polish up, I’ve got some modern sharpening stones, which use diamond powders of various grits. I’m hopeful that they’ll do a quicker job even than the sandpaper.

That pretty well covers the acquisition of inspiration, ideas, and materials for the project; next time around, we’ll give some of the methods a try.

Barley, Round 2

Halcyon barley, sprouting

Well, the Autumnal Equinox has come and gone, and with it the “four-to-six weeks before first frost” mark for my area.  What does that mean?  Time to sow the winter barley!

As I write this (the 28th of September), the barley has been in the ground for just over a week.  Again, two varieties of winter barley: Maris Otter, and Halcyon.  I put down roughly 200g of each seed, using one of the garden planter-boxes.  I added a thin mulch layer, and have watered every other day for a few minutes (enough to soak the soil); I’ll keep up with that watering regime (less days when it actually rains) until I start seeing reliable predictions for the actual first frost.  (About then, the grain will go ‘dormant’ for the winter.)

Since the seed was planted in the garden area (near the house), as opposed to out in the field (‘far’ from the house), I’ve been able to keep an eye on them.  That, and having an electric fence I can put up have made it less likely to suffer from deer predation (as happened last year).  Watching the seed chit, then sprout, then grow, has been fascinating!

Here’s what we’ve got, a week into things:

That’s the Halcyon on the left, and the Maris Otter below, on the right.  (Yes, there’s a bit past the PVC pipe where it’ll be hard to distinguish between them; since Halcyon is a descendant of Maris Otter, and since they’re ultimately going to be malted together, I’m not terribly worried about it–I may, in fact, simply mix the two together next year.)

That looks roughly like 100% germination, or quite near enough.  If I get as good a harvest next year as I did this, I should end up with about 17lbs of each.  (Call it 15lbs, to account for inefficiencies in harvesting, etc.)  Not only would that get me set up to be “malt-sustainable” after one more harvest, it gives me more time to acquire the equipment I’ll need for the larger-scale growing.

My hops didn’t fare as well, this year: my “retired” Cascades are fine, but the Willamette was the only variety of “new” stuff that did well enough to give me hope for next year…  The Magnum may have survived, but the “new” Cascade and the Sterling both thoroughly croaked.  I’ll replace them next spring. They’ll have better access to sunlight, as I’ve got a number of trees to take down; I’ll also be better able to “baby” them along.  (Not to mention getting them in the ground earlier than I could, this year.)