This is what my shop looks like today:
Under all the moving boxes and furniture is my shop, and parts for a built-in desk, blanks for a couple dozen spoons, a batch of half-made butcher blocks, and a cherry burl I hope to carve into bowls. But they're all buried under assorted non-woodworking items like CD's, financial records, boxes of ski pants and boots, kitchen tools, etc.
I'm in the middle of a move, or rather a series of interlocking moves including both of my sons (separately), my ex, our dog Sam, my partner Margaret's son, a woman from Rhode Island I've never met, and of course myself too. Over the past two weeks this cast of characters has been executing an intricate dance as each of us moves in and/or out of my apartment and Margaret's house. My shop, which usually occupies half of Margaret's garage, has become the staging area for much of this dance.
Like all moves, this has been tiring, frustrating, enlightening, and a wonderful opportunity to shed excess possessions. Most of it's done, but it will take me some time to unpack, organize, and start working in this shop again.
Working towards this dance of moves, and through it, has kept me from posting to this blog. I'm hoping that's coming to an end, because since my last post I have tried and learned things about a new shaving horse design, Swedish pine tar, the state of cordless tools, spoon carving, internet crafts discourse, and other things I want to tell you about. Stay tuned - - I hope I live long enough to write all these posts and more.