Yesterday's rings have been sent out for casting, but we're getting to cast a little bit in cuttlebones and sand. Tonight I cast a primitive gothy-looking leetle bronze cross that looks like it was just dug up from the backyard. I love watching the metal turn the color and consistency of a psychedelic egg yolk, even if I do keep mentally recalling that time when I was 15 and spilt hot fudge on my leg and had large fluid-filled blisters in that spot for six months and a scar for years after that. (The scar hung around for a few years, then completely vanished, just like the one I got on my ankle from falling down St. Clement's School front steps on the first day of fourth grade; those front steps don't exist any more either.) I think next I'll go for a monstrance.