There was pea soup fog this morning, which burned off by 10am.
If you’ve ever flown from Baltimore or Washinton to Chicago on the early flights, you’ve been over my farm. Those mountains with the big pools of fog? One of the smaller pools is my yard. They used to build farms in the lower parts of the hilltops, so that the air would be cooler in the pre- air conditioning world. This time of year, when I wake up, it’s usually pea soup. If I go a half a mile up the road, it’s clear and sunny.
I’ve been experiencing a burst of creative energy, and have been spending most of my time over at the shop putting mirror polishes on knife blades. I’ve sped up some parts of my grinding/shaping/treating to the point where in a typical day I forge out 2 or 3 blade blanks and maybe even a billet/bar, or I profile, rough-shape and temper 2 or 3 blades. Since doing the blades is a lot of fun compared to doing the handles, I have a big stack of blades piling up on the bench waiting for mountings. By “big stack” I mean about 6. Blades and knives in general are not ever cleanly in a state of “done” or “not done” they’re always “more or less needs a lot of work” and “more or less done as much as I want to on it” and endless states in between.