O.K. So I know these guys so intimately. I know what they like and can and cannot do. I depend on them, they are my best friends. They take my anger and frustrations, they take my sensitivity and joy. They are loved. They mean the world to me. I love them to death.
The big fattie on the end I found. I was walking down the road and looked over at a big rock and it was sitting perfectly poised. It’s one of my favorite tools. If it had a name it would be Rocco.
I’m positive the chef feels this way about his spatula, and the mechanic his wrench, the surgeon his scalpel…….what do you feel this way about?