For no particular reason, I’m ready to move on to November. I woke this morning directly from a dream to this view of rapidly moving clouds and shadows cast on the ocean. This (next) month’s splash screen caption is a lyric from the band Real Estate’s 2014 song “Had to Hear”. (The full line being, “I don’t need the horizon to tell me where the sky ends —
It’s a subtle landscape where I come from.”) It’s not a great photo, but totally captures my mood, as enhanced by the song. You’re welcome.


Tonight in Wood Skills adult ed class at at Westmoor High School, I noticed this display on one of the machines. We just don’t see enough graphic design as clean and untroubled as this any more. When I reached up to touch the opening between 200 and 300, the metal cleanly sliced my finger tip open. Powermatic!

10 thoughts on “November

    • Nancy Enge says:

      I was surprised, Elizabeth, and made a mental note to include bandaids in my class toolkit. But the bigger voice was our instructor’s comment from last week, when he was coaching me on using my fingers to (safely) guide through wood on the table saw, and I said “Ouch, splinters!”, and he said, ”That’s how you know you’re a woodworker.”
      Miniatures are so much easier.

  1. Mad for Mod says:

    What a view to wake up to. It sounds like a great class! I always keep bandaids in my workroom. I’ve cut my self with the mini table saw three times. Only once did I need stitches.

    • Nancy Enge says:

      AIEE, Cyd! Power tools, no matter the scale, are as… I want to say, “as unpredictable as kittens”, but no, that’s not right. Stitches?! Ooopsie.
      The class *is* great. The machines are powerful and humbling, and I am learning lots. And yes, the view from our little blue house on the mountainside is remarkable. I appreciate it every single day, and all moonlit nights, as the fog allows :)

  2. Keli says:

    I’ve been gray like the sky. It’s rained almost every day for the last two months, and it’s a cold, piercing, rain, not one you want to be outside in, even for a minute. The temperature is plummeting fast, and earlier than it should, it was snowing a bit inland yesterday. Autumn is my favorite season, but Autumn is drowning this year and only looks good through a window. Winter is washing it away too early.

    • Nancy Enge says:

      Keli, be like the cats and hunker down, close to the heat. Your weather portrait just expands my perception of the line, “It’s a subtle landscape, where I come from”. Unfathomable and unexperienced by me, but your description and evocation is beautiful.

  3. Barbara W. says:

    Such a view indeed — your sky would lend itself nicely to the “prettier” shades in my pastel box. Our sky is so harsh and unrelenting… So sorry about your mishap — judging from the quantities of (necessary) bandaids in my desk at work, I have pretty much nixed my chances as a hand model.

    • Nancy Enge says:

      BW, now I must see a photo of the sky you represent as harsh and unrelenting. I want to know these shades!
      The Powermatic fingertip slash is superficial. Way less than the random vicious papercut, which I expect is one of your job hazards. Although it did affect my ability to fingerprint log in.
      But do not give up on your dreams. There is still the chance of finding your identical hand twin

  4. Sheila says:

    Wow! Gorgeous. I love that sort of weather, grey and sort of smooth…
    And oh ouch! You and I are in sync this last week. Cat destruction, cutting ourselves… if something happens to me I’ll let you know so you can be prepared!

    • Nancy Enge says:

      Appreciate your damage scout position, Sheila! I’m just drinking a lot of water and breathing into my belly, to roll with the onslaught of kitten hooliganism and who knows why we suddenly get cut? My phone is 831 515 2858, thx.

Leave a Reply to Nancy Enge Cancel reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s