The Tale of the Missing Bonefolder

Not long ago, Peter and I were throwing all sorts of things into our fire pit at the farm.  Moving day was approaching and all the junk in our house and in every other building had to go somewhere.   Clothes that had been demoted even from the status of "work clothes" were burning alongside some mothy magazines and a moldy drapery that had been hidden, fermenting,  in our basement.  These things were even too nasty for recycling.  Later, I was inside feeding the baby and thinking about filling up a few more boxes when Peter came through the door with his hand behind his back.

"Guess what I found," he asked.

"My bonefolder?" I replied after a thoughtful pause.  He handed me my bonefolder.  I have no idea how I guessed, since it had been lost for FIVE years.  It must have been in one of the boxes of vintage magazines that we had just burned.  He had found it amongst the smoldering ash.  

So here I am, a few months later, using my bonefolder again after a 4-years-of-farming hiatus.  It's great.  Bookmaking has always been looming in my life.  In college I was fascinated by it, and after college I've had little spells where I've made a stack of books and sold them at an art fair here and there, or at a gift shop once in awhile.  I have been missing all the precise little steps.  For those of you who don't know what a bonefolder is, it's a tool, made from a bone, that is used to fold paper and smooth out air bubbles in book making.