Sometimes we need to be sad, and although my research tour of the Rhineland was a most marvelous and unforgettable adventure, I returned to a hospital bedside vigil and the death of my 89-year-old aunt, which laid me low for a while.
A couple of weeks have gone by, and only now am I beginning to feel the deep underwater pressure of grief lessen. As I re-emerge, I’ve been writing, and wondering: What would help reawaken my sense of direction? What would give me that extra push to keep going and draft this manuscript about 19th century culture, and crafts, and lifestyle that happened long ago.
And then it hit me, loud as the clang of a sledgehammer on metal. Keep making history live. Join the Northwest Blacksmith Association. I’ve been meaning to become a part of the organization ever since my class in Blacksmithing in June at Old West Forge (see O, a Blacksmithing We Will Go and posts following). So I signed up.
Once again, the creative fires are stoked …
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