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Category: Rural and small-town living

Life far from freeways, Starbucks, malls, and other benefits/distractions

I hate it when that happens

Been dry and warm. I’ve been working on the outside of the house (north wall, exterior of screen porch; I’d have pix except for my camera having died and the phone cameras being a PITA). But yesterday was misty. Enough that the “mist” dripped from the eaves all morning. So I slipped under the cover of the screen porch and returned to shingling the wall between porch and bedroom. A small fear I’ve been nursing soon proved true: I’m going to run out of shingles on the last row. On the very last freakin’ row. I hate it when that…

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The party place

That’s an Indian burial tree, so yesterday’s host told me. I wasn’t able to find out a lot about it, though it resembles Indian marker trees, but with the bend higher up, and I know some tribes did “bury” their dead in trees or on scaffolds. Anyhow, there were quite a few of these around the barbecue pavilion at the house where the cannon shoot took place. All cedars. An archaeologist told my hosts the trees were only about 250 years old and therefore had probably been prepared for burials but never actually used. Somehow that made it slightly less…

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I’d rather be hammering nails

… into the side of my head. Okay, I exaggerate Not into my head, but certainly into my house. There’s painting to do! Dirt to dig! Trim to trim! Instead, on this fine late-summer day (the kind of day that reminds you to savor every moment because there won’t be many more), I’m headed off to — ugh — socialize. Yes, I’m leaden with dread because (oh, I’m sure you’ll pity me so), I’ve been invited to spend my afternoon hanging out with a bunch of local artists and their friends at a gathering whose main purpose seems to be…

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At the county fair

It’s county fair time. When I was 14 all that meant was riding the Tilt-a-Whirl two dozen times and getting to see big-name entertainment in the giant grandstands. That was in a mega-urban area and if people still entered their home-canned goods or their market hogs, I was unaware of it (and much too sophisticated to care). It’s a little different when you live in a county that’s basically one vast rural neighborhood. Here, the main stage holds an audience of 100 on plastic lawn chairs and “entertainment” might mean a polka band or a little girl giving a presentation…

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Weird day

We (but mostly The Wandering Monk) finished the screen porch framing except for the part above the door. That, and hopefully a fair bit of siding, should be done tomorrow. Well, barring the standard unpleasant discoveries, courtesy of Ye Olde Wreck’s original builders, Jim Beam and Jack Daniels. Fortunately we’ve reached the point where those discoveries are of the “how the heck do we fit those crazy angles together” variety rather than the “why didn’t I just tear the house down when I had the chance?” sort. But there sure are a lot of those little angles that don’t like…

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Where will you be for the big event?

Writer Annie Dillard described the wonder and strangeness of a total solar eclipse. Even scientists express awe as they examine data. I’ll be outside the totality zone for this month’s nation-covering eclipse. Everyone says that even near totality (which I’ll see) is a million miles from the true magic. Until you’ve watched the sun completely disappear by day, leaving only a glowing corona, you don’t know the glory of an eclipse, so they tell us. Where will you be on August 21? Anybody traveling to get a better view?

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Midweek links

  • This grieving widow did many things wrong before she ventured into the woods to scatter her husband’s ashes. Then she did many things right while being lost for five days.
  • Life after the cash in your country becomes worthless. This is Cracked’s irreverent take on Modi’s bizarre decision in India. Be sure to read to the end, which contains a fascinating update on the longer-term consequences.
  • Another big Alan Gura win in a DC carry-permit case yesterday. … 25 Comments
  • Tuesday links

    Whatever your view of their politics, this is a clever bit of resistance. Four things to spend your money on if you want to buy happiness. “Not everybody gets a cookie”. But every social-justice pecksniff can turn a gesture of kindness into an occasion for a display of vicious narcissism. The left. It had a miserable week. Bastiat’s goofy story and real-life folly in the solar-panel industry as solar power begins to become cheap enough for the masses. No wonder Comey decided to let Hillary skate on all those sloppy security violations. Creative lifesaving. Will this be the well-deserved ruination…

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    Weather, work, rest, and the damned dog

    Ninety-seven degrees yesterday. We go from January-in-June to too darned hot. I reminded myself Joel had it worse. I could at least keep the inside temps down (and I see that as of today, Joel has some hope for that, too; yay, Joel). Not until after 8:00 last night did it cool to pleasantness. I hauled the computer outside and completed a long and overdue pair of emails to a friend. That felt good. It was already 75 at 6:00 this morning, and 80 on our morning dog walk. But that’s where the day decided to settle. Low 80s with…

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