Spent four days on a granite piece, about two feet tall, and I was feeling good about it until this morning. Took a bad cut on a spot I knew was thin. Split right down the middle. Piece of rock the size of a dinner plate sheared off and hit the floor.

Nothing saves that. No glue, no pinning it, it's done. I swept it up and sat there a while. Forty years in and that still stings like it did when I was an apprentice.

The funny part is the block cost me forty bucks. The time is what you can't get back.

I've got a theory that you never really learn a material until you've ruined a good piece of it. I've ruined a lot of good granite. You'd think I'd run out of lessons by now.