Make Mine Fire Engine Red

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I’m pretty sure this was an accident.
(click for a closer, finer look at the evidence)

About a week ago Saturday, Benjamin and I went to Home Depot to build a firetruck. You know, the kind that’s little and holds crayons in its back end?

Cloudy skies started us off just right. We climbed out of the minivan to the sound of a dozen hammers pounding nails in 12 different rhythms, bouncing makeshift tables of particle board supported by white buckets.

We grabbed our fire truck kit from a woman wedged between her chair and a folding table. The hammers and glue awaiting us shook in time with the nail-pounding cacophony. Benjamin took a few whacks at a nail before deciding to watch me work.

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Macaw Monday (Weekend Wrap-Up)

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This Blue Macaw served up my favorite color in feathered form.

I’m letting the pictures tell the story for this post.

But, here’s a little background to get you started:

My brother and his wife and their son came down over the weekend and we had a great time, including a brief trip downtown and a big trip to the Fort Worth Zoo. Said brother is the guy who calls himself “Charles” when he comments here. Because that’s his name. That enough? Good.

Update: I wanted to clarify the next picture, based on an e-mail I received. My sister-in-law was on the phone checking on their dog, and Shannon’s grimace probably was just a split-second frozen in time to look much more serious than it was. Of course with two boys of four, we had some challenges, but we were having a good time in this picture.

(Click any picture to make it bigger and sharper — NOW! I’ve increased the size of the enlargements. Try it.)

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Child of the Corn

The child shakes in nervous anticipation as he sips his milk. An open-face peanut butter and jelly sandwich sits on the plate before him, remnants of its innards smeared here and there on the counter top.

The empty table behind him plays host to dying flowers the father bought for the child’s mother. The accompanying anniversary balloon half-heartedly remains afloat.

Beyond that, the green grass enjoys a break from the August Texas sun. A newly-crowned fire ant queen stakes her claim on a spot next to a short rock wall. The ashy wooden fence above the wall wobbles in the warm wind.

Corn looms above the fence, its leaves applauding the oncoming storm.

Nobody knows what the corn will bring.

But look again at the child’s eyes. Perhaps he knows, but he’s not telling.

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