Men flow into life, and ebb into death.
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Men flow into life, and ebb into death.
Pickled beets are ridiculously easy to make, they just require a bit of time. They’re a perfect project for a sunday morning (since you don’t waste time in church!) or a rainy day.
I dragged myself through my door around 4:00pm yesterday. My connection from Minneapolis to Washington Dulles had mysteriously cancelled so Delta put me on a plane to Washington Reagan and generously suggested I take a taxi 30 miles between the airports. Naturally I was compensated with a $100 voucher to be spent on any future Delta flight I could not avoid having to be on.
When you travel a lot, you get bombarded for ads for watches – big chunky expensive awkward things you can wear around your wrist to snag on machinery. Some of them look like something James Bond would wear.
A bit of a view of Dragonfly Forge. In the mornings, it seems to like to be misty.
Apologies in advance.
The sword-making process consumes grind-stones at a fairly amazing rate. Yesterday, I spent most of the day going back and forth on a coarse water stone, and ended up with a much smaller water stone.
Whenever I make it to the met, I visit the Japanese swords. Some of them, I have considered old friends since I was a kid. To them, I’ll always be a kid.
We had no idea this was going on, so we were heading toward the arms and armor (naturally) and took a turn through medieval and byzantine art, and walked into another world.
Do not pull a razor blade from its protective cover, in such a way that the edge of the razor is passing right across your own boob. Just don’t. This advice is gender neutral: this is not how a sword is to be handled.