I've spent the last couple of days engrossed in glue, binding guestbooks. I don't do much bindery anymore, but I've had these on my unfinished project shelf for ages and thought now's as good a time as ever to finish them. Bindery takes a lot of time to do neatly. And that's the thing of it, of any craft: it takes the time that it takes. You can't push the river, a friend of mine says. So, while toward the end of yesterday when I began to feel anxious about having tied up my drawing table with bindery for a matter of days, there's also something extremely calming and centering about the purity of the work. There's no second-guessing, just choosing appealing cloth and ribbon colors, and working confidently with the glue, and keeping things square and lined up. Over and again. I pulled the last two from the nipping press this morning while I sipped my coffee and relished my cleared work table. I'll probably put these back on the unfinished project shelf and add the finishing touches day by day; but for now I feel that I've done a thing or two, and I can see the results and hold those results in my hands. This is what matters to me.