to everything, turn, turn, turn, there is a season, turn, turn, turn

I'm not religious, just well-read. 😛

 I am slowly working on a big post about the lathe, concerning the gibs of the cross-slide and of the compound rest.  It is a sad affair.

 Writing anything right now is slow, because I'm dealing with ferocious back pain.  I hate painkillers which kinda sucks for me, and I avoid NSAIDs and similar just because I like my liver healthy, and side effects like severe tinnitus.  <_<

 I've lots I'd like to say about lots of things, but I'd rather take another hot bath.

 Have some foreshadowing.  I'm genuinely sorry that it isn't level:

for a hint, that's granite in the fuzzy foreground/bottom