finger nickin good

Today I'm off to meet up with Robin for a weekend enamelling botanical forms workshop. It's not exactly the mad metal skills I was looking to acquire, but who knows what might come of it. An opportunity to mess with sharp tools I've never used before in a strange and potentially hazardous environment surrounded by mini white hot kilns and metal filings? Sure why not. Or as I always like to say with varying degrees of accuracy - how hard can it be? In this case I am certain the resulting nicks and burns on my fingers that I'll bring back home with me will answer that question.

Tiny chumley sort of knows the jig is up, sniffing as he did at the toiletries I had put down by my suitcase on the bedroom floor. An interesting thing he's done in this technical morning as I sit here preparing posts for the next three days. Little kielbasa is nowhere to be found, opting instead to be with his dad in bed, whom he kept company with for most of the night as I packed and cleaned and did all the things I needed to do before I leave.

What gives?, I'm wondering. Is this a ploy to make me jealous, concerned as I might be that he's now a daddy's dog??

Crafty sausage boy. Now he's got ME counting the days til I get back home.