Good morning readers. Thanks for coming by for a read this morning. I see people continue to read here, or at least visit here, and I’m dazzled by some internal response I can’t put a name to. But reading the posts Jeanne’s added I’m also reminded that being me is a fairly weird experience for a human being to spend a life doing.
Whatever it is brings you here to read these fragments of my life, thank you for the interest.
Last year I spang wore out seven  garage sale, thrift store and auction fans. This, despite spending hours on each before it crapped out, taking it apart, oiling, cleaning. I concluded there’s meaning to the word false economy occasionally.
So I visited the Big Lot store in Kerrville, studied the assortment of fans, and picked out a few to hopefully carry me through the summer. The box fans and window fan are for me and any cats willing to suffer sultry nights indoors during the coming oven-nights. The two smaller, clamp-on fans are for the computers, hopefully to give them something to hope for.
But there must have been someone else doing the same thing in the Big Lot at the same time I was. As I was waiting in line to pay I kept hearing people behind me talking about ‘the old fart buying all the fans’. I didn’t want to be obvious, but I searched out of the corner of my eye for him. Never did locate him.
Likely he’d had problems keeping his fans running, same as me. I’d sure like to have all his old throwaway fans. I love pulling the damned things apart trying to figure out what I can salvage out of them.
Meanwhile I’m spending as many hours every day as my mind allows following the tracks of whatever it is running this Universe, or this phenomenon we think is reality, sniffing down trails of obscure facts and barking up trees of complex math puzzlements. Gaining new understanding daily, unwinding the warp and weave.
Clearing my head at intervals lopping cedar, placing it in a hundred places where drainage water attempts to go Communist by channelizing, forcing it back into sheet flow. Forcing it to drop its silt loading. Robbing it of the energy to carry the land away with it.
Last time in town I did something I’ve never done before. Took my poor old chainsaw to town and handed it to a real person to work on. Some things in this life are worth compromising.
Thanks again for coming by. Live long and prosper if that’s what you have in mind for yourselves.