I have my weekend project: a router sled. Attempting to surface my low bench with a hand plane didn’t work for a few reasons and it beat the hell out of the blade because the bench is built from rough old lumber. This will allow me to keep moving on the project and make plane adjustments later.
In the barber shop today, the person before me and the person after me were having their mullets cut off. May ever more poor souls come to see the light.
Well worth reading: “Dancing in the Theatre of my Enslavement: Reflections on turning forty as a female, and forty things I know.”
I’m going to have to make this pine needle soda. Easy and, according to Old Farmers Almanac, more vitamin C than orange juice.
The big winter storm is moving through our neck of the woods and the result is mostly relentless rain and gray skies. But maybe some snow on Friday evening.
There aren’t many videos on the Daoist Foundation’s YouTube channel but I was impressed by the one I watched over the weekend: Lundao 1: The Daoist Tradition. I plan to make my way through the rest. Their site also has a lot of good resources.
Well it’s been about ten months since the last of these. I continued building things in 2023 but just didn’t keep track of them in this format: I built two new raised beds: here and here. A window box in April. I pulled a lot of nails in June. In July, I did a very rough-and-ready job of insulating about half the garage walls and covering them with plywood. Mostly to give more structure to the walls so I can put up shelves.
Happy 132nd birthday, J.R.R. Tolkien!
My wired headphones went through the washer AND dryer and still work. And even if they didn’t I’d only be out $20. Take that, AirPods!
Catching up on @dwalbert’s “Road to Jockey’s Ridge” this morning. Loved this from “The Changeable Woods":
I walked the same acre of woods every day for seven years, and a trail by a river almost every week for about that long, and the light of each discovery was, like the stars in the sky, one more pinprick in the vast darkness of my ignorance. I learned enough to feel my way along familiar paths; I had an idea what to expect and when to expect it, but I was often enough surprised. And that was one place. Give me a different forest on a given day, say spruce pine forest on a mountainside in early June, and it’s just a pretty picture again. Having come to know one place over months and years, you may at least sense the changeability of another, merely in passing, even if you don’t understand it. You know, at least, that the snapshot is only a snapshot. You know enough to wonder. But even to know that much requires sustained attention.