Here on the red leather couch covered by my Camino sleeping bag I drive my universe. I have some way points to touch today, work related, and a walk in 50 minutes. But there is a lot of space left over for my mind and spirit to cavort.

The cloud layer seems thin and sunshine could appear maybe in time for the walk. I confess that I only made one lap yesterday instead of my normal three. It was pouring and I talked my way out of it. This happens occasionally but not often. Raven Creek is not running yet. The still dry ground is still absorbing.

I am lucky enough to be working on a table for Catherine and Dana. It is a seven foot long dining table made from solid oak. And it was crafted by someone they knew and has lived with various folks and now has come to them. They asked me to clean it up and put a finish on it.

When approaching a project such as this I have to get to a place where I am in awe of the piece’s history: all the meals, all the Christmas presents wrapped, all the science projects completed, all the tears and the joys are all there in the burns and the scars and the glitter. How to clean it up and not disrupt this rich history? How to make way for the next act and still honor all those that came before?

Hey, time to find my boots. Time to get outside and air out my brain. See you soon. Love and stuff, Felipé.