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This place is for the birds.
When you buy a house from a guy whose business card reads The Birdman, you kind of expect the backyard to reflect his passion. Sure ’nuff… I don’t know if our property is an official Bird Sanctuary, but it oughta be. And then, not more than half an hour after walking through the yard and
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Thinking too much is a slippery slope.
I brought a banana to work yesterday and, when I finished it, the peel was lying on my desk. For some reason I found myself staring at it, wondering whether that old TV trope about slipping on a banana peel had any accuracy. I thought about throwing it on the floor next to the break
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That Voodoo That We Do
“You guys have the best cosmic energy of anyone I’ve ever met.” Ashley J. First off, I’m glad those Voodoo lessons paid off. Tara thought it was a waste of money at the time, but I convinced her it could be a sound investment. Certainly better than crypto, amirite? What my friend was referring to,
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Trial and error and error and error.
Something funny happens when you’ve been painting seemingly nonstop for 10+ days: you start to look at other paint jobs with a critical eye. Case in point: I was in the men’s room at TobacCo yesterday and found myself mentally critiquing the paint job. They did crappy work on the trim, I observed. The brushstrokes
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Don’t ever take sunsets for granted.
When we were chatting with Dick and Carol at our closing appointment, I mentioned how excited I was about having ponds. The water features in the backyard were a big draw when we first saw the listing in December. “There are goldfish in there,” Carol said. “Assuming they survived the winter.” Well, guess what? After
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Painting isn’t rocket science.
When we finally got the keys to our new house and started buying paint and supplies, I said to Tara, “I don’t know why some people make a big deal about painting. It isn’t rocket science.” No, it’s not. It’s harder. With rocket science, you just have to punch some coordinates into a computer and
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Mark My Words 