Back to sanding, uh, I mean wood shop. We were working on a wooden (what else) paper holder type-thing that was in the shape of a duck. Now, going into the class, I believed that I would be working with various machines and high tech saws and the like. Twas not to be. We were each given a cut-out pattern of the project along with a block of wood with sandpaper firmly attached. And, as such, we sanded...and sanded. You see, when we believed we had sanded out the rough edges and the stain was ready to be applied, we would bring the project to the teacher's desk for inspection. He would take the project in his huge hands, curl his bottom lip a bit, and bring out his pencil. Line upon line were marked all over the soon to be duck, and it was our job to make those pencil lines disappear. As you may imagine, this went on for days...and days....and.....well, I think you get the point.
Just when you think you've mastered the art of sanding, more pencil lines. Frustration grew as did calloused palms. I wondered if this guy just wanted to see us kids grow tired and bored. Until one day, when I brought the project to his desk and he looked up at me and shook his head. I was finally READY for the next step.
Perhaps I was thinking about this at a time when I am going through a period where I need to learn patience. Could it be that the trials and annoyances and teeth-gritting, tongue-biting experiences I am going through are the sandpaper smoothing out the rough spots I can't see. I thought I was ready for staining? Maybe my teacher is putting a few more pencil lines on me to get me ready for the next step?
Back to wood, uh...I mean sanding shop I suppose...
I wonder if my mom still has that duck, I'd love to feel the edges!