Limit the X factor
Today, challege: marking an X. Actually, a half-dozen. Civic responsibility.
I understan the voting process, as we practice it locally. Sit at a table, behind a cardboard shield. Choose from a motley group. Refold the paper. Stuff the paper into a particular box. Get out, and be happy. My trigger is accepting that this is the first time I’ve chosen with my eyes wide shut. I trust the integrity of the slate, given their willingness to give up their evenings in from oth the TV for a few long evenings. Does it make me feel sad that my name is not on that paper, nor will it be, going forward? Nope. Not a bit. I will have already done the hard part (paying taxes). This is just a detail.
I’ve been watching videos destined to instruct train crews. Boy, that’s a profession that I missed. Imagine the challenge of hanging from an iron, in a blizzard. Or a summer squall. There are better ways to die.
A new idea, here at home. What if we renovate that garage where the car never goes? Turn it into a guest room. My (mistaken) impression when we renovated the basement was that we had covered that base. I stand corrected.
Outside, the snarl of a chainsaw. People are still trying to restore order in chaos, post hurricane. Not me. I figure that a tree will only fall over once. Once. Unless you get creative. I am not known for my innate creativity. We don’t have any deadfalls, on our property. Trees were too young. Stop by, a generation from now.
