Crossing the Cook Strait

I have no fingernails left. They’ve worn off along with the outer layer of the spoon I’ve been sanding. I’m carving it from a little piece of driftwood that I picked up on a windswept beach and am planning to inlay it with a piece of paua shell in the handle and carry it around the globe with me until I have a kitchen with a salt cellar or a sugar bowl.

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