Monday, June 11, 2012

like a duck to water

I didn't know my husband was a carver when I married him.
Neither did he.
He didn't try carving until we had been married for at least a decade.
He took to it like a duck to water, no pun intended.
There is a familiar comfort in all things wooden for me. My grandmother loved wood, carved abit herself and had a carving brother.
She lived in a log home decorated with burl bowls and pictures of wooden inlay.
I'm glad she was still alive to see my husband begin to carve.
He made blanks for her to whittle; small chickadees and ducks.
It seems to me that my husband has been swept into the flowing river that is our family.
His own abilities and interests indistinguishable from ours so that he is truly apart of who I am.

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