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2011-04-01 - 9:13 a.m. � 2011 by elaine radfordI have a picture up top of what is approximately the 100th cabochon I've cut since I started cutting gems again this year. It all started with a random thunderegg, one of the very few that I overlooked from years ago, when I was selling them cheap, by the lot, at the gem and mineral shows. I didn't know what they were, and I frankly thought they were ugly when we cut them open. Too much Rhyolite or whatever it is, mixed in with the lovely Agate. I was looking for crystals and overlooked the rest. More recently, when I got back into the hobby, I learned what the New Agers of New Orleans never knew, at least not in the late 80s and early 90s. Thundereggs are a hobby in and of themselves, and I shudder to think how many collectible eggs I sold for pennies on the dollar. Ho well. I still had this one, and we decided to cut it into slabs, making windows out of the red/pink Agate, crystal vugs, and browny-yellow softer material. I put a slab on eBay in late 2010, and the man who bought it told me that he thought it was from "Big Diggins" in Deming, New Mexico. I bought it in the early 1990s, maybe 1992, but I have no idea how long ago that it might have been collected. In any case, I figured that an old-time rockhounder's guess was better than mine, so I think of it now as "Big Diggins." It's an evocative name even if we'll never know the ultimate origin for sure. So I have all these neato slabs. The plan is really to make them into windows -- display pieces. However, I'll need a flat lap to do that, and right now I don't have the space for yet another piece of equipment, so I've been focusing on the cabs. A light bulb went off one day when I was fingering my cache of slabs. Why not try to use one of these thunderegg slabs to make a cab? I couldn't be sure that the softer material would polish...but I decided that there was no harm in taking one slab out of several for the experiment. Here is the cab next to what remains of the slab that it came from:
The more I puzzled over the slab, the more I realized that if I wanted to make a pure red cab, then the cabochon in question would be very small indeed. There were swirls and patterns and hidden healed fractures to work around, not to mention vugs large and small all over the place. You can see a hint of magic marker remaining from where I marked up a possible area for cabbing, before I thought better of it. Finally, though, I roughed out a large teardrop-shaped area and trimmed it on the trim saw before taking it to the cabbing wheel. Problem. The pattern I selected was a little too large for my equipment. Problem. I was thinking that I'd make a flat top cab to best show the picture. The two problems are related, because they meant that I spent a very long time trying to get a good first grind on the cab. The flat top idea simply didn't work. Too many scratches and flat spots kept appearing in the middle. That was a project for a flat lap, my friend. Eventually, I gave up and went with putting a slight dome on the material, but I think I put an hour of shaping and grinding that I didn't need to, while I was developing the busted "flat top" concept. After I went back to the dome, I still struggled because of the size of the piece, but eventually I got a beautiful polish that shows off the unique pattern. And that, friends and neighbors, is no April Fool.
All Rights Reserved, Copyright 2002-2017 by Elaine Radford
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