The joy of axe

And as the ax bites into the wood, be comforted in the fact that the ache in your heart and the confusion in your soul means that you are still alive, still human, and still open to the beauty of the world, even though you have done nothing to deserve it.

We finish applying the review comments. What’s left is the larger rewriting of a couple of sections. We’ll both be in Bristol next week, for different reasons, so maybe we’ll be able to release the update then.

There’s a minor company crisis to handle before lunch, but I still manage to cross a few things off my list. I even get to play with my axe - there’s a log that’s too big for the stove that needs split. It’s a Finnish axe that I bought in Pennsylvania - sharp, light, and beautifully balanced.

I break early for tea, before returning to tax returns and keynote abstracts - punctuated by conversations with Claire and my mother. It’s after ten when I close the laptop and my eyes.