So, my son peeks over my shoulder yesterday while I'm browsing an exotic wood site looking for a specific piece of wood and tells me that I need an intervention. A serious one. That there is no more room for any more wood in the house or anywhere else. That between the wood that is drying, the wood that is waiting to be cut, and the wood that is on my shelves and in my why-in-the-world-would-you-save-that-little-piece scrap box it's just too much. And that just once he would like to go outside in bare feet without feeling the crunch of chips from the lathe under his feet. Or remember what I look like without a mask and safety glasses on my face. Yep, then he discovered that I was on a forum devoted to carving and wood and scheduling time to make it to the carving club meeting next month and he just sighed and left me to my browsing. I think he realized that I'm too far gone to stop now...

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