As the lunchtime rain drips from the lathe handle, I wonder.
Not much use for the hob nails in the treadle this mild Winter passed.
I wonder when the felled beech tree that forms one leg supporting the lathe bed will become so rotten that it no longer will support the lathe.
The other end which lives indoors under the tarp still looks pretty solid.
The lathe looks and works pretty well.
Wonder when that lady is coming to collect two bunches of 8′ hazel rods.
Why the young lady on Sunday said,”I hate this place, it’s creepy, like something from The Blair Witch Project,” I wonder what that film is like, scary I believe.
Something from the window box at home.
Something for the blackbirds.
Something naughty behind the trough.