In the Psychiatrist's Chair

I maligned Amazon's delivery speed; The Chairmaker's Workshop has landed. Wowsers, it's certainly at the opposite end of the scale to JB's in detail terms. I think I need to try and aim to fall between - wait for it, I worked on this one and it may show - the two stools of thought. Gettit? Stools? Chairs? Stools of thought? Schools of th- Oh, never mind... First thing to do is erase from my memory the bit where it says make a stool first 'cos Windsors are too complicated for a first chair. Ha hum. I must not over-analyse this, I must not over-analyse this...

For those persons who'd have me grind my own travisher from a spokeshave instead of breaking my New Year's resolution and buying someone else's act of vandalism (other means to do that have been suggested instead ), I notice DL suggests the same thing in a foot note (right after the directions on how to forge your own blade and make your own wooden body - yeah, right. I need another learning curve like a hole in the head...) But can I really take grinder to currently working tool? I have a strong feeling only if I'm sloshed, and naturally I wouldn't dream of going near the workshop in that condition, so that'd probably be a "no" then.

The writing, meanwhile, stalls like a Dagenham Dustbin. I think my essential trouble is proposing a subject that encompasses enough information for about three separate articles supplementary to the main event. This is a Bad Thing. Plus I keep finding I haven't taken quite the picture I need for what I want to write, so I'm darting to and fro from 'puter to workshop and back again like a honey bee on a nectar rush. Sorry? What? What was that I was saying? Oh yeah, I must not over-analyse this. Fair point.

Finally, I would congratulate someone, but I don't want to risk stealing their thunder. So just leave it at congrats, and I'll reveal all when I can. By which time you'll probably know already anyway... Why is it I seem to end up being told things that I can't tell anyone about until everyone'll know about them anyway? It's ever so slightly frustrating. Not in a big way, but, you know, just irritates a tad. I'll just vent my feelings about it for a moment, if you'll indulge me.



Okay, all done.