Greetings, friends. Bjorn here. Today, the forest paths of Britain were elusive, refusing to reveal themselves to me not once, but twice. I think the trees are laughing.
Spent the rest of the day in a futile battle with a single, lonely board, trying to convince it to become a chair. My skill is 56, my materials were one, and my success was zero. Seven times I tried. Seven times I failed. I am now an expert on the grain patterns of one specific piece of lumber.
Virtue may be its own reward, but splinters are a far more tangible one.
Bjorn out.
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