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8 May 2009 – The House of Several Gables

Happy ocho de Mayo,

A good many things have conspired (successfully) against getting this little slice of project life up here for you to see: a very busy building schedule, the fifty things that spin off of that, a built in aversion to this kind of work when other things are pressing, my sometimes depleted gas tank, and in the lead off spot, a laptop turned bad. If there is anything less merciful than one of these eye-wrecking tyrants, it’s one with a case of the farts. Now too stubborn for Disc Warrior, and enjoying a capricious turn of mind, mine has lost its way. I sort of admire the rebel spirit and the random nature of its behavior, but that will not hinder me from crawling over the person next to me on the plane, rolling down the window high over the Atlantic and frisbee-flinging it to the fishes. In its defense, it has been kidnapped, and returned, and still bares the scars of the trauma: photos the rats downloaded of their beach vacation and lots of music. If you need early Tupac, look no further.

One of the most charming symptoms is that it uploads the photos here in whatever order it likes, heedless of my threats. It’s like writing a book and having the pages assembled by a political action committee.

This is, I think, the fourth attempt to “post.” And with each time-sucking failure I’ve become less inclined to repeat the effort, but there is no good end to that course, so I’ll bulldog this one come what may and trust your ability to sleuth it out.

I’ve skipped ahead to the present, leapfrogging over the ring beam pouring, and landed on the trusses and purlins, though not necessarily in that, or any other reconizable, order. And, strangely, I feel a little better now.

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One small truss for man.

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One giant truss for mankind.

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Mankind’s representatives for the event.

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I’m in the midst of figuring out a better way to deal with my juvenile delinquent Mac-punk, and it may all work out in the end. Well, I suppose it has to work in the end, there’s no choice. Whether it works out better is the peanut butter or pate’.

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Let’s talk soon,

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David

Comments(4)

  1. Bob says

    Nice Van Dyke, Dude…Bob

    • david says

      Thanks Bob. Not sure what its life expectancy is, but as they say, one day at a time. I haven’t quite got the knack of trimming down, but each attempt has had its own merit. The general consensus here is that its another in a long string of evidence of mental imbalance. So there’s that. Go Giants.

      Love,

      David

  2. Huck says

    Tom,

    See ya in a little while mebbe. That computer was givin’ me the heebie-jeebies — so me ‘n Jim lit out for the bush.

    By the way, them whitewashed walls look slick. How’d you con all them kids into it?

    Huck

    • david says

      Dear Huckleberry,

      We’ll all be settin’ here when you and Jim come up for air, but we won’t be holdin’ our breaths. I hear them heebies takes longer to remedy than a solid hour of inhalin’ diesel fumes at close range.
      As to the other. I went on and took a night course on rightful business dealin’s and getting folks to do just eggsactly whatever you want ’em to, and I come out on the good end of it, as you may say.
      We got more brushes.

      Your Tom

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