Booker started small, and I mean real small.
Toothpicks and popsicle sticks and twigs.
He’d carve em up with that old Barlow he kept stropped so it’d shave a hair off a hair.
But them little carvings didn’t satisfy, so he moved on to planks, barrels, chairs.
He got it into his head that his wood needed to be living, so he got going on the trees in his yard.
Never mind an idiot knows a tree dies if you cut all the bark off.
Booker had other ideas.
Last I saw he was headed north to the big timber.
I think maybe somebody needs to talk to Booker. If they can catch up with him. Good story.
I love the voice in this!
You created a real character, but I hope he ends up in the Arctic carving ice and so leaves the poor trees alone.
Next, a forest full of carvings! Nice one.
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Booker needs, Booker wants wood, preferably live so that he can make things out of them. But he is killing trees in the process.
Thanks for the new word ( for me at least): stropped!
Sounds like he’s on a mission. Such single-mindedness, with no external prompts, such as fame or money or purpose, does not bode well for this driven woodcarver. Eventually his purpose will come face to face with some one else’s (i.e., the National Park Service.)
I wonder if you meant to type “any” rather than “an” in your third from last paragraph. Durn spellcheck. Only spots misspelled words, but can never tell us if we typed the word we meant to. ?
Booker has made a beautiful thing, just hope he doesn’t go too wild up in those woods!
So, on 20 years or so we can head north and maybe see a lot of Booker’s work 🙂
This was great, thank you!
I enjoyed this, and I loved the phrase ‘shave a hair off a hair’. Great voice.
You described Booker vividly in so few words!
Great voice.