Regular Life

A unique tree stands just outside Pilot Point, Texas, where one of my cousins lives. She and her family had wound me up tight in anticipation, and I was disappointed that my wife had my Nikon D100 while I was stuck with our POS P&S digital.

“When does this special cherry tree bloom?” I asked on the drive out.

“Oh, all year long,” they replied.

I knew that this part of Texas had a warmer climate than, say, Washington D.C., where the famous cherry blossoms show themselves for a short time in early spring. Maybe there was a cherry tree that flowered year-round, but could not survive colder climates.

“Well, what kind of cherry tree is it?”

“Not sure, but it’s like none you’ve ever seen.”

They laughed.

“I get the feeling my chain is being yanked,” I said.

The more questions I asked, the harder they laughed. They had tears in their eyes by the time we reached it.

Chairy Tree

They got me.

Pounding

Wednesday night, it felt great just to pound nails while listening to tunes. There’s nothing more gratifying than setting a goal, gathering resources, and completing the task — all without any conference calls or red tape. I did not do it all alone, though. Sunday, my friend J helped me, but I’ve already written about that. (I didn’t bend one nail. Not one.)

There is a single bare bulb to light the attic, but working at night made the corners dark. This allowed my circular saw to shine, as its inner workings glowed blue during each cut. That behavior is not by design, and not unexpected from a $2 garage sale acquisition. Stephen King could have used that saw in The Tommyknockers.

Bumper Stickers

I scribble these on the back of old Far Side and Dilbert one-a-day calendar pages that I keep in my car as scratch paper. Those pages have been in there since long before I had a blog.

On a small, late ’90’s Nissan SE pickup:

• The world is a comedy to those who think, and a travesty to those who feel.
• To neuter is cuter.

I like the first one, although it doesn’t take into account those of us who do both. I guess to us, the world is a tragicomedy. Travescomedy? Tracheotomy?

The following, on a vehicle my notes did not identify, definitely established a tone:

• Fear me, for I have the power to destroy you.
• Super Bitch (at least that’s how I interpreted the Superman “S” overlaid with the word “Bitch”)
• Stupidity should be painful.
• It’s only funny until someone gets hurt…
  …then it’s hilarious

Here’s something I conjured while driving and scribbled down at a traffic light:
All his life he toiled in obscurity, only to become posthumously infamous, but not infamously posthumous.

Verily I say I have no idea what that means. I think the latter is the less desirable of the two, but I could be wrong.

Here’s one more pic, because it’s fun for me and free for you. With darkness arriving so late these days, Ben loves the extra swing time. I had to use the flash on this, so naturally I experimented a little. Click to make it big.

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