Monday, July 7, 2014

climb and collapse

Here. This is where you can find me on any given day. It's like three miles from the lake, but I haven't seen the lake in at least three weeks, because I've been here. Always with a brush or a roller, and most recently, a caulk gun. It feels a little overwhelming at times, like it will never be finished, but I keep climbing that ladder. Or I just collapse at the foot of it. 


Monday, June 30, 2014

because badass

Now, this is a truck! There's not another one like it. People have tried to copy things from it (I've seen them try), but they failed miserably. The dash has buttons and knobs and switches and thingamajigs and doohickeys and if you press them in a certain order the truck will sprout wings and fly. It turns into an eagle. With a dragon's tail. It has gills. And it roars. OR! Time travel. It's a cockpit. It really is like a cockpit, I am not even making that part up. Every thing built on this truck, painted on this truck, was done by Grandaddy. 
It's pretty incredible, and I'm going to photograph the shit out of it. A lot. Because, Badass.

My uncle has it now, as he should. When I see it on the road around town or coming down highway 94, I'm always like, Hey! I KNOW that truck. Lots of personal work went into that deal.

Yesterday, I pulled into the driveway at the house and there, parked in the driveway up to the garage, was the truck. It was good to see it there. It was a bit of a mind trick, but it was good. 

My uncle was inside doing work. Work that I don't have the knowledge nor the strength to do. Lights and fans came down. A cabinet came out. And some kind of built-in shelf in a window is now gone. Wires were checked. Holes were patched. Things were looked over. I'm learning a lot from my uncle, who learned a lot from my grandaddy, and so it goes. 


Friday, June 27, 2014

mamalode - a little too much

Thanks to the man, a very kind soul who I think fondly of, that was the inspiration for this. And I want to say thanks to him for being so smoothly considerate at the proposal of entertaining a crazy vague idea by way of, at present, an unwritten letter. 

You guys have maybe already read this here, but dude, now it's been published. So here it is again. 

And you can click right here to read it.


Thursday, June 26, 2014

kentucky love

I've always really liked this sign. Kentucky is made up of a very generous people. We want out-of-state visitors to not miss out on anything and be sure to check out some of the other 49 state parks there are to be enjoyed. 

Kentucky - there are caves, mountains, lakes, woods, hills, and everything else heaven made. 
I love my state. 

I've always really liked this sign, because it also says, in other so many words - GTFO


Wednesday, June 25, 2014


There have been battles against mold, fleas, dirt, old smoke, and ticks. There's been a lot of expletives from me juxtaposed with smiles and laughter. There are blisters and calluses and sore muscles and stiff joints. More expletives. More laughter. 

There have been whippoorwills and owls that call out when the sun gets low. There are yellow finches that fly from wildflowers, blues, yellows, oranges, and whites, when the sun starts its climb. Jolie dissects one of the flowers to find that the stalk smells of sweet cantaloupe. There are thick vines that lead to clusters of grapes. 

There are bumblebees and butterflies. There is one push mower that has met its match (and gladly gave in) to nearly two acres of grass, wheat, clover, more flowers. It's gorgeous and wild. 

There are longish drives back and forth. Long work days. Sound sleeps. Dreams. 

I've told this little bit to many, so forgive me as I share it here if you're already in the know. But if you're already in the know, then you already know - How could I not?

I was in the bathroom thinking that maybe I could just prime and paint over the already painted over wallpaper that was there before. There was a tiny piece of paper peeling back, though, so I peeled it back and off. Of course, as wallpaper does, it left the backing there on the wall for me to wet down and peel and scrape off. 
I continued on with this, piece by piece, because after I doubtfully tried to prime over the piece of backing that was stuck to the wall - it bubbled, and so I stripped. I stripped piece after piece after piece. 
Then I pulled a piece of wallpaper off and every bit of it came off. It came off clean to reveal the wood wall behind it. And when I saw it I stopped in motion. The word Good had been written on that wall. It was the only panel of paper in the whole room that did that, and it said Good
I'm a sentimental fool that doesn't really get into religion, and I can't explain what exactly it is that I believe in, or how it all works, but I believe that was a nod from my Grandaddy. 
I took a photo of that wall and will be framing it. 


Tuesday, June 17, 2014

i went for it

So I'm writing this with my toes, because my fingers aren't feeling well. Neither are my wrists, arms, neck, or back. 

I've been painting. A lot. The paint that was promised to get the job done, did not. And after a fresh FIVE!! coats later, and a free replacement from the store for the paint wasted and then some more, better paint, it's starting to look good. It's finally covering up the smoke stains that were on orange colored walls. There will be photos. The before and after's are going to be unreal.

Here's the place I'm painting. Home in the woods. I can't even believe it. 

There was that evil bitch that's been hanging on to Grandaddy's place while waiting for a check. And really that's all I've got to say about her. She is totally mean and spiteful and hateful and greedy and draining. And I think I'm just not going to tell that story. I would rather scrape dog shit from my shoe with my teeth than to write about her. She was really bad. And, you know, I guess I wish her well. I mean... I wish she would fall in a well. Forever. The End. And they all lived happily ever after. 

It's been 2 1/2 years since Grandaddy died. The other day, when all of the legal papers had been signed, I drove out to the house, and after about the first ten miles I realized my smile was as long as the road. The little road I've driven countless times was leading me home for sure this time. 

I pulled into the driveway slowly and just looked at everything. From the tin roof to the porch brackets. From the caulk sealing here and there to the wires behind a fuse box. Grandaddy built every bit of it. Every pipe, every screw and nail, every post, every thing. I find myself gazing upon the details, running my hand tenderly along a wall. Everything is old and everything is new. Before I left the house that night I cried. I cried hard for so many reasons, but I am also so happy. 

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