Today, in a little over two hours (as I write this) I’ll be taking a class on blacksmithing. We’ll be making a set of fire pit tools; a log grabber, a poker, and a rake.
Am I nervous? Am I excited? A little of both. I love learning new things. I’ve been interested in trying it since meeting Tim’s dad, a blacksmith (and sure, I could learn it in the family, if we were ever in South Bend longer than for Thanksgiving). But what if I can’t do it? My right hand and elbow have been giving me grief lately, I’ve had some intermittent pain and my grip isn’t as strong as it used to be. What if I don’t like it? What if I’m terrible at it? I supposed it can’t be worse than shop class, when I shot my teacher in the hand with a nail gun…. sigh. (I hope my blacksmith teacher isn’t reading this before class, hahahahaha oops.)
At least Jenn is going with me – if I’m terrible at it she’ll hold my hand and giggle silently while I cry, heh.
OK; gotta get moving. I still need to shower and put a lunch together and help Joe load Black Mama Kitty into a cat carrier so he can drive her up the pandhandle a ways where he’s going to meet a friend of mine and she’s going to give Mama a good home. … and who is surprised I’m going to end this by saying that I also need more coffee? Predictable Lore is predictable.