A sign hangs on the wall of my shop that reads: "By hammer and hand do all things stand."

Years ago I was skimming a book about the Craftsman movement and found a photo of a Gustav Stickley bungalow over whose fireplace those words were etched.

I was so inspired that I carved my own version as a sort of motto.

Now, however, I think I may have been wrong.

I think a better choice would be: "First, do no harm."

(That's a rule often wrongly attributed to the physicians' Hippocratic Oath - although there's evidence it may have been coined by Galen, a Greek doctor who followed in Hippocrates' footsteps.)

Who hasn't dived into an improvement project only to be confronted by the harm done by those who have puttered before us?

Who hasn't set out to right a rippled flagstone patio only to discover it was laid over nothing but quaking topsoil?

Who hasn't found the sin of muddled plaster repairs once the wallpaper has been peeled back?

Who hasn't dealt with too-sandy concrete, untreated fence posts, paint-dribbled mopboard and the work of those who are convinced that if there's room for six nails there ought to be six?

And someday some renovator will discover that beneath the painted "woodwork" in the guest room at the new-old house are pieces of yellow pine, white pine, spruce, poplar and (I knew it was wrong, wrong, wrong even as I did it) paper-veneered chipboard.

First, do no harm.

Or at least don't get caught.

Refinishing

We're going to have our floors refinished, and the contractor asked whether we wanted his crew to fill all the cracks between boards and nail holes. Isn't this something that's always done? Why wouldn't you do that?Well, I can tell you why I didn't let the refinishers do that in the new-old house.

My yellow pine floors were 100 years old by the time I got around to them, and in that time they'd developed a lot of , er, let's say idiosyncrasies. There were many spots where the boards had pulled away from each other and more than a few places where nails had been driven in by previous owners in attempts to stop squeaks.

My contractor planned to fill those flaws, so I asked to see a house of similar vintage where he'd done that. My worst fears were realized: Every "repair" virtually glowed in the dark.

The semiliquid filler they'd used on that floor was not a bit like the color of the refinished floor. I think you'd get a similar effect by repairing a hole in black walnut with oak filler. Although the repairs were smooth and seamless, the entire effect was nothing but messy.

My contractor told me this was "standard," that they couldn't possibly color-match every repair.

I opted to skip the filler stage and never had a regret. In fact, I think the flaws and cracks left behind added to the authenticity of the renovated rooms.

That said, if your floor is oak put down in the '50s, as are the ones in the new-new house, I'd let them smear on their filler. I have a feeling that's exactly the kind of floor it was designed for.

Send your questions to: HouseWorks, P.O. Box 81609, Lincoln, NE 68501, or e-mail: houseworks@journalstar.com