I was going through pictures of our workshop on hard drive, with the aim of selecting some for this blog and our new Metalsmithery website. The Machinist came through the door, phone in hand..
“It’s ....... for you from ......”
“Can you take a message for me?”, I asked. This was sort of pushing it with the Machinist, because he had left his momentum behind in the workshop, passed the distractions of our pet Cockatoo, Bucko calling from his cage, almost legged over the two ‘shadow dogs’, fell into the front door to make his way to me and my HP Touchsmart. But... I hadn’t thought of all his trevail when I asked this of him. I was just so miffed that this person had phoned, after I had asked for email contact, and I hadn’t even had the chance to consult with the Machinist about the issue. Email gives one TIME to THINK. Phone communication doesn’t.
The Machinist got mad. I got mad and then I cried. The Machinist went back outside...
Later, I heard his footsteps in the house again (I know each family member’s footsteps. I know the pace they take, the pressure they put down on their feet...). Suddenly, I could see him out of the corner of my eye, and not ready to talk with him, I kept my eyes focussed on the screen. I saw his hand slide onto the desk and deposit something next to the mouse.
“Here’s something to keep you company”, he said, and then he was gone.....
Did I tell you how much I love the Machinist?
TEMPERED STEEL
Tempered steel
in furnace burns
golden crimson fire
beaten bandied
folded too
emerging stronger yet.
So must our love be tried
furnaces fired
with passions belows
tested
tempered
tried again
emerging unbreakable.
A worthy life long quest.
~ F Michael Sigler ~
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