One year ago today: September 13, 2018, a dud gig.
Five years ago today: September 13, 2014, a regular mountaintop.
Nine years ago today: September 13, 2010, Windows CE, my eye.
Random years ago today: September 13, 2017, reported as dangerously insane.
Good morning. If you recognize these berries and they are edible, help yourself. They were all over the yard when I returned. I might know them but everybody knows east of the Mississippi, all the invasive species are as untrustworthy as the, what, the graduating class of 2012. These ones grew in the shade, making them a little too spindly to take a chance. Chokecherries? So much for working on the house today, it took the whole time to unload the car and reconnect your basic blog assemblage. That includes the printer as not all my patrons are on-line. Not only that, but a ton of the last minute footage from Tennessee turned out hilarious, but unpostable.
Here’s a quirk. One of the books I seemed to have picked up near Spartanburg is an itemized work on arrowheads and spearpoints of the Southeast. Normally, I’d leaf through it but talk about a heavy impact on nosy onlookers. Simply put, the booklet attracts attention for its demonstration that nothing else in the mix is enough to hold my interest. Which is true. Wait for the scan, it is just another ordinary book except for the number of hefty, rough-looking women who take it the material must be more appealing than they are. Which is quite true.
I brought back a sore shoulder from the trip. Deeply painful enough to stop everything. Blog rules I have to mention it no matter how old-ladyish it sounds. Still, I was able to get five or six bamboo shoots planted where the last batch failed. These are smaller and greener, brought ever soaked in water and dusted with rooting hormone. That Christmas flower nobody can spell had been thriving in the front yard, if you see a picture nearby, you’ll know I made a special trip for you. It’s all green right now, but the leaves are dark, firm, and robust. Kind of how I like my coffee, but not my women.
I think I may become an actual supporter of Trump if only because he infuriates the class of people I detest the most. Like Josef Stalin said about an enemy of my enemy. And I truly like do-gooders who take money out of the public purse. They are stealing to make themselves look and feel good, and if they are personally unaware it is stealing and believe they are helping mankind, that makes it even worse. Because that makes them stupid, which is inexcusable in this country.
Donut factory, $180.
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.
I’m still nursing that sore shoulder, so here are some random pictures from the trip. In any order, here are the descriptions. You can play that match-up game and then grab yourself a cup of tea. I just got a hunch you would like some tea. Am I right?
Here’s the nicest wooden box I’ve built yet. And that swing set I dismantled yielded around $40 worth of great hardware, including these locking chain thingees with a name I can’t recall at the moment. Oh look, there’s the frame of Turtle World taking shape, and that gemology seminar I’m unable to attend. There’s a shot of the street in Jacksonville with a couple of the local beauties photo-bombing.
There’s the brightest of my surviving yard flowers and I do have a pic of that antique store. Inside was this picture of WACs from the war, an appropriate word for their role. That’s a telephoto of JeePee in the great outdoors from the dining room window, and finally some posters in the window of a Jacksonville restaurant.
