I’m a hopeless romantic, You’re just hopeless!

The tune by The Bouncing Souls thumps away in ears. I always listen to punk when I’m in the shop alone and need to really hit it hard. Even though it is Sunday, today is no exception. I can’t reveal all the details yet, but the Monk’s invasion of Australia begins in Melbourne… in 2 weeks time. I need to kick out nearly a half mile of rope in 2 weeks. Thankfully we now have the shop mostly up, so while this will be a challenge it will not be impossible. Just means less sleep for the Monk and about those play dates? Um rain check?

Tomorrow, the first batch ever to be made in the Abbey goes into the dye. Now I’ll admit that I am a hopeless romantic at heart. I have been saving a certain spool of near perfect 8mm hemp for this day. Even raw this stuff is like butter… soft and perfect. My idea was that the first batch out would be just for me. Something cool like more gold rope, or some rust orange. Alas but no, the demands of my customers come first, let it be known that the first batch out will in fact be Jet Black.

I often tell folks that I have a mistress, a mistress who trumps all the other women in my life. I choose her over food and sleep, for her I will do just about anything that must be done. Her name is Abigail and she sits in the center of that red disk of the company logo.