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A Piece of Me...

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Long week. Deadlines, politics, and the water cooler rumor mill. TGIF. Thank God its Friday is right. Ride through the country side to the forge after spending the day trying my best to make a difference. Windows down, sunroof open with James Taylor reminding me of the smaller things in song after song. Trees reach into the first day of spring. Grass waking up shrugging of its winter leaf laden blanket. Gravel drive leading up the hill to sanctuary. Rock dust floor, smell of the beeswax concoction waiting by the door to be trusted to seal up a job well done. Bare hands running over the coke pulling out those unwanted guests. Small talk here and there with the one I look up to on more levels than just in here. Clean out all the dusty memories of my last dance from the fire pot ballroom. I grab an article or two from the pile and a few leftovers from the pines outside. Light the fire, give the blower a turn and listen for the train of air to begin rumbling up from below. A little coke on top a few more turns and the smell of coal fills my senses. Grab my very first project, my rake. I put a twist in it, the heat was uneven. The handle was an after thought. Funny thing the first tool I go for and use so often is my first born. Green coal thrown in to soak a while. Grab the stock I need and get ready to dance. A few pulls of the blower, and the heat is right. Pick up my hammer, tap out my anticipation on the anvil while waiting for the music to start. My partner is ready. Out the fire and on the dance floor.

Hi Peyton.
just want to say that the text you wrote to this special man is beautiful.
hope he have a chanse to reed it.


Sweden_karl

Just to be able to think like that is therapy--meditation at it's full flavor!

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