How Shiny Is Too Shiny?
I'm just going to stay low and do nothing and watch the squirrels who can't fly fall slowly and drop dead. I can't tell if those boys out there shooting in my woods are boys I gave hunting rights to or if they is just some boys I don't know, with guns. I have to weigh what it is I really care about and much as I look I can't seem to find a single squirrel on that scale. I don't even know who it is I would be paying lip service to if I said something good about squirrels, or acted in some way sensitive to their immediate plight, which right this minute is them coming to terms with small gauge shotguns. From the sound of it though the squirrels are giving the boys a run for their money.
I thought I was just going to spruce up the sorry ass looking wood floors here in the Fence Post house but instead ended up renting a drum sander and sanding them all the way down to bare wood. And staining them and sealing them and now they are done and look nice.
Bernadette came down for a few days and worked with me but now she's gone. We stopped for barbecue between Hillsboro and Chapel Hill, yesterday on the way to the airport. It was delicious. The waitresses were kind of all business bossy though, in a way that did not seem at all affected. No one called me "hon" I guess is what I'm saying. I'm not saying they weren't friendly enough or that they weren't good at their jobs, because they were fine at it. It's just, well, no one called me hon. We had ribs, and flounder, and hush puppies, and cole slaw, and fried okra, and sweet potato pie.
As I stood behind a teenage girl counting her change several times in front of a very patient, almost encouraging cashier, one of the waitresses noticed Bernadette's red patent leather clogs and called the other waitress over, who admitted to having the shiny blue ones. The first waitress asked didn't Bernadette mind the shininess but the other waitress, the one with a pair of shiny blue ones at home, said that shiny was good. Bernadette just played it safe and said how comfortable they were, especially considering that they did not bend whatsoever. In the parking lot afterwards, we giggled because we thought it was funny that the one waitress was curious about the shininess of her shoes but did not have a single opinion about the bright orange and black camouflage jacket Bernadette was wearing.
I'm not really doing a damn thing today. If I do anything it might be bringing in the shop vac and sticking the flexible hose into the floor vent and fishing around for that rutabaga Bernadette dropped down there night before last. I am remembering how she fashioned her hands to describe the size of it when she explained that she had dropped a rutabaga (about so big) into the heating duct. Later, after she dropped a couple more things down there, we put a piece of wood over the opening. But I'll tell you one thing--the mashed and buttered rutabagas were good as all get out.
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