I didn’t figure the Monk would be up for resuming the Great Foundation and Screen Porch Project until later this week. But when he texted this morning to say he’d be here, all was good. It’s the most gorgeous day of the year so far. If he’s up for it, I’m up for it. We’ve certainly had the best day’s progress. First, the Monk tore out the most rotted corner. This corner was already well-supported by temporary posts and jacks. Once the corner was off, we placed the first permanent support. Well, not quite permanent because when the floor beams…
Month: May 2017
So. This urgent need came up for me to get to the Big City. I mean the Actual Big City (hereinafter ABC) as opposed to the place I laughingly call the big city (PILCTBC) or the cute little resort town (CLRT), the two places locals go to shop. I don’t currently have a working car. That has so far been no great problem. Yes, it’s been a gigantic grumple trudging on foot through the worst season the PNW has had in 30 years. But it’s not like I have to walk through Minnesota blizzards. It’s not like I even have…
After seven years, five of it spent with Assange holed up in the Ecuadorian embassy. Where he still remains because you know the U.S. government is going to do anything it can to get him. At least Manning is now free.
A legend told by several Native American tribes goes something like this (both the picture and the words are my own interpretation): When the world was new and no one yet knew their place, God decided to divide Man from the other animals. He set Man on one side of a line and the rest of the animal kingdom on the other. Then he spoke and the line began to crack open. Soon it was a chasm, separating Man from all the rest. At the very last moment, just as the chasm was becoming impossibly wide, Dog made a rebel…
The Wandering Monk wandered in about 9:30. Limping, but not quite as much as I’d expected. He showed me pictures: three-inch gash; bone gleaming in the depths, but very little bleeding thanks to him having the good sense to avoid major veins and arteries while chopping himself with a machete. Good tool sharpening, too. The wound was as clean-edged as a paper cut. A very, very large papercut. But as straight as if drawn with a ruler. He offered to show me the real, live injury (which he has bandaged under tension but not stitched). I declined. Though he offered…
Got a text from The Wandering Monk yesterday afternoon. He swears he’ll be here bright and early this morning. And that he’ll be “80%” okay to work despite having chopped his leg with a machete on Saturday. We shall see. If he’s able to pull this off, I expect I’ll be called upon to do more minioning than usual. But the cold rain has finally abated and we have clear days ahead. I’m ready to get back to the Great Foundation and Screen Porch project. If 80% turns out to be overly optimistic, I may just call a halt to…
This far. And farther, of course. The Intercept tells the story of how the FBI concocted a fake production company with a fake documentary crew to get the Bundys and their supporters to self-incriminate. Journalists and filmmakers rightly object when police and spies impersonate them. They ignore the fact that plenty of actual journalists over the decades have acted as government agents. Long, weird, twisted story. Worth a read, though, and worth heeding for any activist.