...
Until the weather will be reliable enough to do something more permanent, and my pleasant exchange with CederQ sent me over to weed out my junk mail address and there found ol' Zoso staring out at me from behind his shades, struck me we need to hear The Rain Song in honor of me [maybe] not needing a wetsuit this winter to get in and out of my mudroom.
Jimmy's selling numbered prints of him with the Black Crowes back in '99.
He's still darn cute for a geezer and darn capitalist, but I love him anyway.
My genius deadbeat handyman/neighbor/friend brought over his whole tool chest, which is massive, and gonna help me keep my mudroom from crumbling into utter ruin, and he'll do some serious sleuthing on the other leak that had been plaguing me for so long, but miraculously stopped for the last few years. I mean, I think something plugged it, but what, and for how long?
The annual rat attempts on our houses are back in full swing, too. Little jerks try to get in every year when it turns cold out there, and they scratch and nibble on every damn thing they think will gain them entrance — LOUDLY — like to drive me plumb crazy — so he's brought me some traps and is ferrying their oblivious dead rat bodies off to dumpster land for me.
I used to be able to handle this shit by dint of sheer psychic force — no, really — but now I can't get down far enough, or see well enough, to do my magic on them, so he's helping me be quit of this year's batch of determined little would-be raiders.
Plus, help me with my new mattress next week — have I bragged about that yet? — Got a monster-good deal on it — no more flailing and groping to rescue myself from the pit of my old mattress — and he'll freshen up all the steel wool around the pipes and plug whatever of that stupid hardened foam stuff the rats've nearly eaten all the way off. Generally help me pull my act back together at last.
I'm going to give him my beautiful, antique, pristine condition, shotgun I inherited from Billy since I can barely pick it up, and he just loves the thing to pieces. It's probably never even been shot. Sure doesn't look like it. Hunnert years old and truly gorgeous. SERIOUS construction. 32" barrel. Competition-style shotgun. I need something light and easy to grab.
I want somebody to love Billy's ludicrously silly, unused, "home intruder" gun. By the time I could get that thing up and aimed, the intruder would have mowed me down, taken whatever he was after and gotten to town with it.
So this will be good karma all around.
pipe up any time....
