Lost and Found

Yesterday it went over the fifty-degree mark in the carving shop. So I went out to sort through almost done projects left from the end of the December rush. Mostly I was looking for a way to store them until I completed the early spring cleanup. However, I tend to get a bit rambunctious, so it makes sense to get the all-most done separated before I accidentally drop something on them. Remember, the carving shop is only an eight-by-ten greenhouse. Stowage is always a problem, so cleaning up means lots of reorganization.
The ramifications of reorganization are always that something gets unearthed that I carefully put away, so I’d be sure to find it later, but I can’t remember where. There is a bit of angst involved in this as I consider that those things that I am currently organizing will become among those lost till the late spring reorganization. If I were truly organized, I’d have an index or inventory, but it’d take months to complete, and by then, it would be obsolete.
I am looking for a new packet of taps for tapping the maple trees for syrup. I bought them in January, left them where I could easily find them, and now can’t locate them.

The problem is not so much one of forgetfulness. And by the way, I was just as organized at twenty-five as I am today fifty years on. But, no, the issue is that you tend to move stuff around in a small shop. So you need to find other stuff or get the room you need to perform a particular process. So anything in the way gets moved when you veer from one process to another. After a while, you envy those big shops people in the magazines tend to have. There is enough space for multiple workbenches, large aisles, and generous room between machines.

OK, after a while, envy turns into resentment. I’ll bet some of their shops are so big that they wander around lost in thought; “where did those darned screws go! I just put them down over by the planer!” It may not be accurate, but it makes me feel better.

Sometimes after an hour of this I just need a hug!