No. Just no .

Still alive, but just so. Still alive. I am well and healthy and I still got a home. Not much to eat, no heating, no electricity. 

And just recently, I have to admit, I gave up. Gave in to despair. I mean, I have no perspective and there is no such thing as a future. After the pandemic a worlwide economical crisis will take place, and climate change will take care of what is left. 

Yes, I gave in to despair. Just refused to get out of bed for some days. 

But then it occurred to me, not exactly all of a sudden. 

On the one hand, we are all fucked. I have to pay taxes on money I do not have and will never get. It is a criminal system of corruption, where the rich prey on the poor and if you are rich, you get richer still, and if you are poor, that little money you have is taken from you. 

On the other hand there are the Plebejans shouting revolution, the raving mob wanting to turn things upside down, the intellectuals, too, wasting time and energy on futile and idle discussions. 

And, do not get me wrong. Not technology will save us now. We are faced with a cataclysm. You cannot argue with a virus, and you cannot argue with climate change. 

I have fought for 30 years now to prevent this time from becoming. I lost. I would do everything just the same as I did, could I do it all all over again. I have no regrets, and I am prepared to die. For most of us will die, and soon. Do not get me wrong, I love to live. It is just not very probable that I or the next guy or my loved ones will. 

That said, I am faced with but a really tiny shred of life left. And so I say no. 

I say no to your society, your petty dreams and your blahblah. I wear my mask and disinfect my hands and stay away from people. I care for my loved ones, but everyone else is a potential danger. I also say no to the raving mob and your Nazi paroles, your politics and stoopid endeavours. I say no to your consumerism. You only deserve my utter contempt, because you are not capable of making things with your hands. 

Oh, I still do not wish anyone anything bad. I just do not care anymore. People are, for the most part, toxic and contagious in more than one sense. 

There are things I care for, however. Knowing things can make you rich. 

Now, it was winter, and I collected some Chaga. I seldom drink coffee these days, because I do not get the point why I should bother if I can find something better in the woods. 

When collecting the fungus, I thought "well, isn't it a shame that you have to still drink your tea from a Kuksa you bought? Now do not get me wrong, I bought my Kuksa from a very nice young Finnish lady who dated me for a cuppa afterwards on the expo, and ever since I heaped fond memory upon fond memory into the notion of it, so nothing wrong with it really. I will keep using it, too, it is nothing at all like being dogmatic. But still, I somehow never made myself one, and I feel a bit like it is an apprentice piece for any bushcrafter. I just wanted to know, too. 

So I just fired away and made myself one. I made it in the woods, deep in the woods, in fact, and was at it well into the night, while the foxes were yelping and tawny owls were hooting and I think an odd eagle owl, too. I took this as a sign, somehow. I made the cup from nothing special, just some humble birch wood. Made some mistakes, too, but it still worked out. I also got the whittling bug bad again. There is a kind of beauty to the simplicity of sitting in the woods making things with simple implements. If you get into that zone, if you get into the flow, everything just falls into place and suddenly you realize that life is meant to be this way, not.... whatever the sorry mess is that we created. Life is meant to take place under trees. Do not get me wrong, that does not mean to be idle, in the contrary. It just means doing something that actually even makes sense for a change, hard work or no. 

The other day I went to the woods again, and my despair was nowhere to be found. I prepared some scales out of broom, made myself another baton.... 

... And worked on the kuksa. Now I carved a triquetta in, and oiled it some. 

But, as I said, I got that bug bad again. My laid father did an awful lot of woodworking, even more than smithing, and I grew up with it, and it is a bit like shaking hands with an old friend. And I am really stoked on it at the moment. Also it is a bit of a stinky finger into the face of the world, since most of the tools I also made myself. 

The Kuksa being in good order I also started a small bowl and a dish, and it felt really good... 

To have tea while carving from the cup I just had made. 

Actually I know that these things are not the best there are, but they must not be in the first place. It was all made from scraps. Even my tools were, for the most part, made from junk, as you well know. 

Society has proven through time that it does not want me. A long time I thought this was because I was inferior. 

But the people that kept judging and ostracizing and spiting and mobbing me just now are showing that they are utterly inkompetent at living. They stacked up big time, so much in fact, that the ship is sinking. 

If the ship is sinking, jump. 

Jump and swim, swim as far away from the ship as you possibly can, in order not to be drowned in the downward draft. 

I suggest you ask people who never belonged. Learn from indigenous people, with respect. They have, if anyone has, one key to a possible survival of our species. 

Run from capitalism and communism alike. 

Ask the woods. Help them, for we owe them dearly, and come humbly. 

And do not forget that some things even now do not change. Make something good with your hands. Build a garden, a homestead or a farm, plant a tree, carve, forge or build a house, tile a roof. 

But get a life. Switch off the Phone or Computer. 

 The cranes return. 

Spring is on its way. ☺️ ❤️ 

Take care, care for the elderly, the weak, and for those who had bad luck. Thank you. 

On the bench these days... load of work

 First and foremostly, and most important: The Sgian Dhú I forged for Craig for his appearance at the Bethaus smithy! The blade is 3 mm thick and very slicey, made from spring steel. The handle, after I had the weird idea of heat-colouring a stag antler handle after it was mounted and cracked it in the process, is made from very rare reddish bog oak from the Muttental mines, some 150-200 years old.

Then there is a seax, spring steel, and a deer bone handle, yet to be finely ground.










...and a spoon carving knife, a right-handed one, spring steel.

Watch this space!

New Whittling - EDC - little task knife

 I was being sick of cheap-as-chips-Moras being better than my own knives:-), so I made myself this whittler. Laminate steel, wrought iron / tank bearing steel, 1,8 mm spine thickness, copper ferrule and blackthorn handle.

 It made this wood spirit with a beard and locks in five minutes and came back begging for more! I love this knife.

 Made this scandi sheath for it.

The sheath oiled and coloured. Have to fit a butt cap (or a gemstone;-))to the handle, and it´s done...

Birch sap rises! Tapping sap and spoon carving...

 Now spring´s coming with giant steps, and the sap rises everywhere, so I went into the "grove" and figured I´d get me a healthy and refreshing drink. Birch sap is rich with potassium and vitamin C, and it simply makes me feel good. It also always has something spiritual for me, for the forces of the land awaken in the rising of the sap, and tn my own body the sap also rises, bringing new vitality after winter. It´s also a very special place for me, where I do a lot of "stump-sitting". I tried two methods, one with an open system, and one with a closed one.

 If you use the closed system, remember to punch a secondary hole into the cap, for else the pressure will build up inside the bottle and keep the sap in the tree.

 I sat down on my favourite stump, had  a cuppa tea and did some spooncarving from this cherry branch I brought with me. This is the gear I usually carry. A folding saw I got cheap after I lost my Oyakata from Westfalia, a local crafts supply. Mora Classic carving knife, the one with 79 mm laminate blade for more delicate tasks, Nessie a.k.a as Fimbulmuk;-) for bigger tasks. Also my flask, and my beloved kuksa for tea.

In this photo there also is a Mora spoon carving knife (right handed), which to me is a great allround carving knife I also use for other tasks. I sat until the sap bottle was full, and my tea flask was empty;-) some three hours, and then had a sip or two of sap. A squirrell came by just to check on me, a snipe flew above me, geese above, and the sounds of ducks and cormorants filling the air. The sun was warm and soothing, and I really relished in it all.

The sun was sinking over the lake, finally,  and on my way home I was filled with peace and the song of snipe and wild geese returning. A beautiful and peaceful day found a fitting end with the vibrant colours of dusk.



(Of course, the sap did not last me long. ;-))

Some stump sitting and spoon carving

Today there was some fine weather, and I got a day off, so I decided to look after the birch I tapped, and maybe do some´crafting;-) and general stump sitting. So I made a flask of tea, packed something to whittle and to eat, saddled my steed and made for the woods. The weather was fine as I started, and I rode through the forest in dazzling, pale sunlight for about one and a half hour. Climbed a fire road to the mountain peakie (it´s called "Wahl", and there´s an airbase for Cessnas on top of it). Then it was some fireroad downhill to one of my favourite places, a light birch forest. Along the trail I found a pieceof beech, a little rotten and decided it would make a fine noggin. Set up"camp";-) and had a cuppa and then it was out with the Moras. The weather, however, soon deteriorated, but no harm done.

I quickly had to learn my would-be noggin was rotted through. I carved away all the rotten parts, and I think I will simply fit a separate bottom out of dry wood for it to shrink against it, and left it at that. had some birch wood with me to carve a BIG spoon, and started that, too.

It´s sort of funny, how quickly you get in a meditative mindset when sitting on a stump and just whittling away. It was just me, and the trees, and the lake, and the bloody rain;-).From time to time I just took a sip of tea, and had a sandwich and some apples, but most of the time it was this subconscious state of mind you achieve by just being and breathing through. It was calming, and soothing, to just sit there.   

That´s the spoon. The top knife is "Skogsrunarminni" (I remember the runes of the forest), a laminate bladeI forged at my old home, with a dirt forge. The ferrule is aged and peened copper, the handle carved reindeer antler. My old home is just some 400 m away from that place.I found that quite a funny experience, even if it´s not hurting as badly any more as it used to. Below is a Mora spoon knife. There are people believing that Moras are crap, for they come in so cheap. I can´t relate to that at all. It´s one hell of a knife, and the only reason I want to forge one myselfis that I...ummm... want to forge one myself;-)? 

Anyway, I whittled the hours away, and thought, and let my mind wander, and had some tea and some food, and punched another hole in my tapping system, and sat on a stump, and got wet through, and remained sitting on my stump, had another tea and thought some more.

Then I decided it was getting bloody cold, and did some funny jumping to warm up for the bastard of a trail that passes there, and did some stretching and flexing my hands and lowered the saddle as far as it would go, and had some severe smiling as I rode down that trail, too.