The apparition.
The hope was to make a near perfect solid silver square box frame. I tried to cast in one go. By using some aluminium angles and casting sand I made a mould. As the frame was to be only 4mm thick I was not able to get a good enough pour to fill the entire mould. After a few attempts another strategy was needed. Maybe if I just get four strips of silver and a sheet, I could silver solder it all together. What I didn't take into account is that as you heat the metal to solder it, it expands. It is going to be hard to get all five pieces at the same temperature to avoid any gaps and buckling. Alternatively, a jig to hold it in place is equally awkward to set up.
Screwing it all together seemed unsatisfactory as the thickness didn't seem to be adequate to take the screws. The other problem was that when you buy silver sheet you expect it to be flat. Each piece is far from flat as the guillotine used by the stockist puts an annoying bend in it.
So back to casting again, this time I tried to make four side pieces with a couple of nubbles on each to screw into. Being smaller than a whole frame the casting would not need any vacuum assisted pouring. I managed the first one. It was far from anything a competent foundryman would deliver but it was machinable to my required specifications. The next pour resulted in an explosion probably because the sand was too wet. After picking hundreds of globules of silver of the floor and putting back into the crucible I thought about pouring into an open mould. The resulting apparition, the return from the dead showing their face arms belly and so forth led me to reconsider the perfect box shape.
Another side was made by heating the silver in situ until it flowed, then running a piece of wood quickly across to get it to flatten adequately. Molten silver doesn't run like water does, instead it has a tendency to form globules and misbehave. Nevertheless, whilst using more silver than simple sheets the result is fine.
After endless hours on the milling machine, I sized each piece to fit the top sheet.
When it breaks it is a good thing (sometimes).
For the third time in three weeks something has broken, and the after-effect has been quite positive. Silver is quite malleable and doesn't welcome being milled. Unlike brass, which flakes off nicely it has a propensity to snarl up, smudge rather than machine away. The vibration and noise were gradually increasing, the amount I was trying to mill (depth) decreased yet still no encouraging result.
You can enter one code to move the mill slowly and anther code to move it quickly to another spot. Put the wrong code in when the end mill is too low, and it will fly across and snap instantly. Entering G0 rather than G1 and another expensive carbide bit destroyed. However, with a new bit in the milling was wonderful. Obviously the one I was using was getting blunt and not cutting at all well. Breaking it solved the problem and saved a lot of time figuring out the next move.
I broke a ticket barrier in China the once. The police stopped me in my tracks and told me that I will have to pay for the damage. The train was long gone before I reached a settlement. I showed them that there was a chip in the plastic and suggested that they pay me for missing my train. This reversal of claim did reduce the amount I had to pay to a third. On the other train we met someone who showed us an unbelievably useful item which we bought at our destination and used during our visit.
I broke my tablet and was so disgusted by the internal build, penny pinching components, that I decided that I would buy another type altogether. This led to a different way of working whilst away, one which has become far less painful and increased the time sightseeing halving the time not. So, serendipity is found in miniature disasters.