Turning
Turning is a machining process in which a cutting tool, typically a non-rotary tool bit, describes a helical toolpath by moving more or less linearly while the workpiece rotates. The tool's axes of movement may be literally a straight line, or they may be along some set of curves or angles, but they are essentially linear (in the nonmathematical sense). Usually the term "turning" is reserved for the generation of external surfaces by this cutting action, whereas this same essential cutting action when applied to internal surfaces (that is, holes, of one kind or another) is called "boring". Thus the phrase "turning and boring" categorizes the larger family of (essentially similar) processes. The cutting of faces on the workpiece (that is, surfaces perpendicular to its rotating axis), whether with a turning or boring tool, is called "facing", and may be lumped into either category as a subset.
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Some articles on turning:
... Speeds and feeds for turning are chosen based on cutter material, workpiece material, setup rigidity, machine tool rigidity and spindle power, coolant choice, and other factors ...
More definitions of "turning":
- (noun): Act of changing in practice or custom.
Example: "The law took many turnings over the years"
- (noun): The act of changing or reversing the direction of the course.
Synonyms: turn
Famous quotes containing the word turning:
“Above all, though, children are linked to adults by the simple fact that they are in process of turning into them. For this they may be forgiven much. Children are bound to be inferior to adults, or there is no incentive to grow up.”
—Philip Larkin (1922–1986)
““Really, friend, I can’t let you. You may need them.”
“Not till I shrink, when they’ll be out of style.”
“But really I——I have so many collars.”
“I don’t know who I rather would have have them.
They’re only turning yellow where they are.
But you’re the doctor, as the saying is.
I’ll put the light out. Don’t you wait for me....””
—Robert Frost (1874–1963)
“I was awakened at midnight by some heavy, low-flying bird, probably a loon, flapping by close over my head, along the shore. So, turning the other side of my half-clad body to the fire, I sought slumber again.”
—Henry David Thoreau (1817–1862)