Things to Make and Do

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We are having everyone for Thanksgiving this year.


Yay!



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This is what our kitchen looks like. Our 1951 O'Keefe and Merrit takes
center stage. I love that bad dog about as much as I have ever loved
a physical thing. I have been elbow deep in its guts and I have taken
its temperature and I have washed its dirty hind-end and coaxed out
the brilliant blue/green flames froma clogged burner.

Let me tell you, you can do major surgery on that big bad
body with little or no fear.

Cast iron. Porcelain. The Grillevator.


Ah, yes.


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A couple of weeks ago I stole the graphics from Nikki McClure and
painted our fridge. (Hey, I sent her an email asking permission and
even showed her a photograph, but nothing back from her yet....).


Anyway.


I like it wicked bad.


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A guy at work I like sat with me in my office for an hour
and let me go on and on about my kid. He just listened
and let me rant and rave.


He's a good guy.


The kind I thought there were a lot of before I got wise.



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I love and I love and that's an old story.


Still, I love.


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Shit, I probably love you.


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One thing I do, is I love the little nest my wife and I have cobbled
together out of loveand spit and odd taste and a hundred bucks.


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I'm going down swinging.

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