My routine is to do an hour of prep work in my studio, slicing incoming fabric, assembling colors for a new rug, sewing up bottom and sleeve bands for the “hit or miss” rugs, and so forth, followed by at least two hours on the loom, before I turn on my PC.
I was just getting started this morning when I accidentally knocked my ergo cutter off the work table. I heard it hit the floor just a bit behind me and marked the spot in my mind, while I finished the cut I was making with my electric cutting wheel.
When I turned around, I couldn’t see the cutter anywhere. I looked. I moved stuff. I got down on my hands and knees. I knew it was flying when it left the table, but this room isn’t too big and I had just tidied up. It couldn’t have gone too far.
I started to get angry about a disrupted day; the electric cutter is fine, as far as it goes, but some work is simply easier with the manual razor wheel. Things tend to come and go in my life: they’ll get lost for a while and then turn up when they’re ready. I lost my main car key on October 17th last year after I dislocated my finder and it’s still gone; the handknit sock that disappeared some where around that time just turned up yesterday, in an otherwise empty knitting bag. I can’t say I was surprised. But I had plans, and I wanted to achieve them, and I needed that cutter.
I went into the living room where I keep the flashlight by the front door, so I could better look under the furniture.
Wiley has only been with us for a week, and we’re still learning each other’s inclinations and habits. He buries all the rawhides in the house. I’m going to have to be differently careful now.
