On top of a hill
Suddenly, I found myself on top of a hill, on the edge of a huge cemetery. On the horizon, the ocean, and at my back a row of trees. Unfamiliar territory.
Nothing dramatic, actually. On the request of a family with parents buried locally, I’d been asked to dig deep into the toolbox. Seems that a clevis they had used (to suspend a small solar lamp) had succumbed to the climate. Rusted shut and corroded. Salt air will do that. I had some penetrating oil, and with a few drops of that, some patience, a bit of twisting with heavy pliers… undone. We took the future in our grasp and stopped in to the nearby general store to purchase a replacement (less than $4). I’m sure this will require a repeat, but not for a few more years.
I’m busy watching the Twitter feed, where reports of several convictions at the court level have been rendered against top players in the Witch Hunt. I’m like so many others: only when the chief warlock has received proper recognizance in those same courts will I believe that justice has spoken. Long, slow process (we’d been warned).
On the radio, more 60’s rock, out of England. I don’t know the titles or the artists, but the style is solid. Going back in time, musically, is a great relaxation. I’m tempted to play along, but that would require paying more attention to detail than I’m willing to give. Maybe another day.
The US government just levied substantial duties on pipe (the kind used in building oleoducts) coming in. That is almost as good as outlawing pipelines altogether.
