It's the final day of our workshop, and I feel calmer and more at peace than I've felt in weeks. My worst nightmare is definitely coming true (or parts of it at least): there's no way we're going to be able to finish today. Thankfully, the prospect no longer seems quite so overwhelming, thanks to the generosity and enthusiasm of our new friends.

Nearly everyone in the class has happily agreed to stay another day, or two(!). Meanwhile, Peter, Amy, and their kids have agreed to cut out the wiggle room on their road trip home, and will stay until Sunday to help us finish as much as we can. With the worries plaguing my mind quelled for the time being, I'm able to be present and enjoy the day.

I spend most of the morning making pegs. This is the kind of woodworking I really want to be doing. I like being away from the heavy beams, the chainsaws, the pounding of mallets and the drilling of drills. The work is repetitive and meditative, and while it takes a certain amount of knack, the task is pretty easy. The octagonal rods I'm carving will act as huge nails to bind the knee braces to the posts and wall plates.

I could sit here all day, listening to the kchhh kchhhhhhhhh kchhhhhhh as I pull a draw knife across the square sticks of ash we've split from a nearby stump. I love how the shavings curl up, making all kinds of beautiful spiral patterns, each one unique, like fallen snowflakes.