Yes, I know I have not been diligent about writing lately, but I need, and still need a break. Between Passover and Shavuot (starting tonight), we do not listen to music. Frankly, THIS IS KILLING ME! A world without music to a former professional musician is torture! I am sick of audio books and ESPN radio. After the Shavuot holiday, I am going to be cranking the toones, so watch out eardrums, each peach pear plum, ready or not here they come! Writing is so much easier with my headphones on, listening to my YouTube music playlist.
Near the end of the 49 days of the Omer, I am like a fish caught up in a shrinking pond. My muse has long since abandoned me, and I feel as colorful as a grey piece of paper. Thank goodness this torture will soon end.
And now, something completely different:
I put in a bid to make all the big furniture for a synagogue, so I will need all the inspiration and energy that music provides. If I get the job, I will have a whole lot of work to get done in a short amount of time. Here is what has to be done translated into the language of a non-woodworker: blah, blah, blah, blah, a lot of money, blah, blah, blah blah, 4 cans of sardines, blah, blah, blah, blah, wood, blah blah blah hot sweaty man, blah blah blah. Well, that about sums it up.
On a lighter note, I did make a jewelry box for my daughter, Lailah, with my new workbench and a scrap piece of Bolivian Mahogany. Two words; LOVE IT! OMG, I simply adore my workbench. I am so happy with it. (picture any dancing from “Fiddler on the Roof”, and that is me in my workshop now). I used one of the jewelry box designs from Popular Woodworking, since I was in no mood to design something myself. I like it, and more importantly, she spent a lot of time in the shop with me watching me make it. It was good to have some father daughter time.
Yesterday, I was turning a bowl, and my 23 month old son came in with my oldest daughter. He likes to name all tools he sees in the shop. He tells me what they are, and informs me that they are either off or on, and points to shavings on the floor and says “Mess!” My 9 year daughter asked me where the drill press was, so I told her to ask Asher, he waddled over there and pointed to it right away. I hope this is a good omen that he will want to be a woodworker like me.
Once my muse decides to check back in, I’ll be back.
your favorite cold fish,