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While there were a good number of things for Jensen to consider after he conceived the idea of making name plates, the foremost was the material to be used. In Austin, as well as other parts of Minnesota where his plates were to be used, anything put outdoors must stand up under a good deal of weathering. It must not warp, crack, or rot, so after evaluating several materials he decided on weatherproof Masonite. Besides having all the desirable attributes, it is generally available at the local lumberyard, and is easy to work with in the jig saw.

A good deal of experimenting with different sizes for the plates brought Jensen to the decision that seven inches in height and eighteen inches in length was the maximum. An exception is made in the case of a very long name, or when the customer prefers to have his first name lettered in full along with his last one. When two names are required, as might be the case with a jointly owned summer cottage, Jensen puts them on different lines to keep the plate in scale. These plates are made for homes, and most people do not want them to give the idea of a sign, but rather a simple, readable handling of their name with a touch of suitable decoration. Jensen has found, however, that a plate shorter than twelve inches appears "dinky."

Again, in compliance with simplicity and good taste, Jensen found through the try-and-take-a-look method that the lettering was best in block form and each letter 1¼ inches high. Capitals and small letters introduced the complication of readability from a distance (for the small letters), and threw the entire composition out of scale. However, his exacting standards gave him a problem on lettering: Stencils come in one and one-half-inch and one-inch sizes, neither of which he thinks is "just right."

"I cut out my own pattern letters from stiff paper and trace around them with white pencil, spacing them evenly—by ruler," Jensen says. He puts a metal ruler on the line which marks the base of the sign and centers and marks off the lettering accurate to the fraction of an inch on the allotted space. "I guess this is doing it the hard way, and probably I could speed up my output if I would change, but to me the satisfaction of coming out with good proportion is worth the trouble," he says. "I'll have to admit that when my orders double up, I realize that this is the department I should streamline."

INCONGRUOUS AS it may seem, Jensen designed his first plate (remember they were to be Christmas presents to Minnesotans) with a palm tree for the decoration. Whether there is some psychological explanation or not, most of his customers, with the exception of avid hobbyists or pet addicts, still pick this design from his selection of an oak leaf, squirrel, cat, rabbit, deer and other typical Minnesota motifs.

The exceptions bring the most challenging part of his work—personalizing name plates. He has been asked to incorporate a camera idea into a name plate to satisfy a photographic enthusiast. For the owner of a Scottie dog Jensen included a silhouette of a Scottie in her name plate. Another customer felt his Boston bull dog deserved this honor and Jensen cooperated. A young couple just completing an early American type home insisted that even the name plate must be in keeping and suggested a man and a woman riding on high-wheeled bicycles. This worked out well.

"Sometimes I have to look through a lot of magazines, borrow the children's books, find greeting cards or even go to the library to get a picture that I can adapt for those people that want to individualize their name plates," says Jensen. "But this keeps it stimulating for me."

In general, Jensen tries to keep the design bold, not too fine. Too much detail gives a cluttered effect to the entire piece, is difficult to cut and finish neatly, and yields only disappointment to the customer. The profile, general outline, silhouette is the best bet in all cases, and should be allowed approximately seven inches for height and four inches at the base line, or name line, of the entire design. However, the top of the decorative section may extend over the lettering, as with the palm tree, without destroying readability.

With the pattern letters of the name to be used, the motif (copied to scale on heavy paper at hand) Jensen, goes to his full-sized sheet of weatherproof Masonite which he purchases at a lumberyard. He now makes his layout by starting at one corner of the sheet to keep cutting efficient (he gets twenty-three or twenty-four out of one sheet, if well planned). He first measures off the base line, a half inch wide, and allowing four inches for the design, calculates the necessary length to accommodate the initials, periods and letters of the name. Tracing on the motif with carbon paper, he then centers the lettering in the remaining space and traces around the letters with a white print marking pencil.

Taking the entire sheet to the jig saw, he cuts out a rough outline of the entire pattern so he will have a small piece of wood to work on for details. He uses a straight blade to cut out the design and outline of the letters, a filing blade for finishing-off, and a saber blade for the hollow letters—O's, R's, B's, etc. By drilling a small opening in these letters he can bring the saber blade up into the center and work out the open part of the letter smoothly.

AFTER A light sanding, Jensen applies a coat of white shellac, and when that is thoroughly dry he sands it again and it is then ready for the enameling. Equipped with an even, fine brush he uses a good grade of fast drying enamel and rarely uses over three colors on any piece, keeping simplicity in mind again. The letters are done in black, and the motif in green or brown, whichever seems to be more appropriate for the subject. He selects clear, bright shades of these colors and does not try for shading or detailed effects. In fact, all black plates have proved to be a popular choice because of the present vogue of using bright-colored paint for houses. These are very effective, take less work, and consequently Jensen Sells them for $1 less than the three-colored ones. The latter sell for $3 unless special requests make it necessary to adjust this price.

Equally good results in color can be obtained by mixing oil colors in white enamel, particularly if a special shade of green, for example, is desired. Jensen often mixes his colors, but most people are satisfied with a ready-mix "bright green."

The final process is the application of two coats of plastic-film varnish to prevent fading and weathering. The name plates put up the last two winters came through very well and there is no reason to believe that they won't stand up through many more seasons.

As a help toward hanging the plates, on the house, Jensen makes three small holes (by driving a fine nail through the entire piece) equidistant from each other on the base line. The owner can then insert small screws or nails to attach the plate to his house. Due to their light weight they will stay anchored by this means and certainly no one could protest against any damage to the house. Around Austin, most home owners put them beneath their mail boxes, alongside the door casing, and they are a very attractive as well as practical addition.

MOST OF Jensen's sales have resulted from the "good neighbor" policy, and requests for name plates are now reaching him from other nearby towns. The most direct sales effort he has made was putting up a display at Austin's hobby show. An active interest was shown in his work, and he printed business cards to hand out there. Orders have been coming in as a result of this participation. When, and if, sales drag, he intends to put samples of the name plates in a hardware store window with information needed to place orders. He hopes he can arrange this in a new, outlying shopping district surrounded by blocks and blocks of recently built homes, a real potential for his hobby.

Mailing the plates has proved to be no problem if each one is backed by crating board, from the sides of an orange or apple box, and corrugated paper wrapping (from discarded shipping boxes) is tied firmly about the piece.

After his work at a meat packing plant, Lloyd Jensen gets real relaxation and pleasure out of descending to his corner workshop in the basement of his home. The rest of this space is shared with the children's playthings and his wife's laundry and canning department, so it might be called a family-project room.