Thursday, January 7, 2016


When he's down at that level where a person needs a pair of tweezers to lift a ten foot plank there is a moment when he raises a call of anguish to the Great One. "Have mercy, or at least tell me why I'm doing this!"

The friend who lives too far away is absolutely correct. Wood shakes on tiny roofs guarantee a place in the rubber room. And no good pretending they might look a tiny bit real when they're painted.

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