New entry in my Kilt blog 9/21/2011

Thursday, December 31, 2009

Old Fools Journal: 2009 and Cargo Bike Update #2

This is what I rolled out of the shop today. It's not finished but we needed fodder for the dog pack and their cats.
This is the load. About 50 pounds but so easy to load. This would be max volume on the Schwinn. I am no where near the limit here. I am no where near done. Updates to follow.


2009 was a fairly stress free year for me. Some good things happened and some disappointing things happened but all in all it was a positive year. I didn't get to be in the presence of those I love the most near enough but that is probably my punishment for not gracing the living room of my mother and grandmothers near enough. I now know how they felt. (I just love the that phrase "love the most". I don't think "love" comes in degrees. You either do or you don't. It is sort of like being a little dead or a little pregnant.)

I made new friends and came to respect even more the friends that I already had. One of my new friends pointed out that his friends all reside on the internet (internetwebtubespipes) and I find that to be true in my case as well. Through writing and reading what others write we get to know each other. You can be the real you here.

Thanks for reading my stuff and making comments. You have made me happy.

I hope you all have a Happy New Year filled with new fantasies, new dreams and new friends.

The following statement is wrong and should be stricken from this post but I'm leaving it to remind me that anytime I am so sure of anything I am usually wrong.Wrong again but I am consistent.
(Oh yeah, be wary of news media that can't count. The new decade (10 years) starts in 2011 unless of course this one is only 9 years)

Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Old Fools Journal: Making Foolish Stuff as Therapy

This stuff came from the trash except for the lego man in the basket and I found him in the dirt one day when I was raking leaves.
Oh yeah the waxed thread came from old boat supplies.

This came about right after rebuilding the toilet mechanism and served as therapy. I always need therapy after toilet work.

Sorry, I couldn't help myself. I'm such a freak for lighter than aircraft that I can't throw it away.

A wider context below. Toy shelf.

Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Old Fools Journal: DIY Heater

This is what I want to see when I look into a stove. Many years ago I had that in several incarnations but as I moved further south and space became limited space saving methods came to bear. A fire of that magnitude here and I would have to live outside. We use electric heat that we get very cheap from the grid (.065/kilowatt USD so far). We could augment that with wood heat but the cost of adding an efficient stove is cost prohibitive. In my hovel (THE BUS) space is at a premium. A piano, a work table and a sewing machine are where the stove would have to go. So for now clean electric heat is what we got except when the power is off then it's clean propane heat or nasty gasoline generator electric heat. I don't like to be cold. Which brings me to this days project.

My tiny bathroom in my hovel (THE BUS) was really cold this morning. It was 33*F (1*C) and since my tiny bathroom is closed off from the main living area it gets a little cool in there until the door is open for a while. A very early in the morning visit becomes a problem for a naked old man that really needs to pee. So I finally added some heat.
This little device is stuff from my brass pile, my electric lamp pile and electric wire pile. Except for the lamp socket it is all brass and copper. The lamp socket is a 250 watt standard bulb socket with a scrap piece of 3/16 inch thick rubber insulating the back, the heavy duty cord is from god knows what discard and the structural wire is 14 gauge copper stripped from plain old household wiring. The heat source is a 150 watt halogen bulb. The radiating surfaces are brass and copper stuff from the brass and copper stuff box.
This simple solution puts out an amazing amount of heat along with a warm and cheery night light. No more frozen pipes (more like a disappearing pipe).

In a few months I'll be wondering why I made this but for now I'm sleeping in my clothes.

Sunday, December 27, 2009

Old Fools Journal: Making Useful Stuff Out Of Crap

What to do with old credit cards especially the fake ones that come in the mail. The fake ones are especially cheap therefore flexible. A good thing.

This is something to do on a day when it is too cool to work on your new bike. I did work a while designing the rear rack but my legs got so cold that I had to come in and that was while sitting in front of a electric heater. Oh well, aging sucks but it is still better than the alternative. I think.

We have young guitar pickers here therefor we need a lot of pics. These guys couldn't keep track of their ass if it wasn't attached. I don't know where the pics go. Maybe they snort them but I don't think so because some of them show up in the dryer.

They make me happy so I don't care how many they lose. I'll bet I can make them faster than they can lose them.

Thursday, December 24, 2009

Old Fools Journal: Merry Xmas Shopping Season and to all a good night.

This tree was made by SWMBO(she who must be obeyed) in our palapa in Loreto, BCS. It was our first Christmas there and we were really still camping out.
SHE said "I'm having a tree" and so she did.

We have not brought a tree into the house to die in over 20 winter solstices now. It's not that we have anything against it but It just seems pointless. We spend so much time worrying about the health of our trees that I just can't bring myself to kill one. Even the ones that are a nuisance.

We are not Christians, Jews or any other dogma that gives religious significance to winter solstice. We do believe in the spirit of Christmas and in our world he wears the jolly red face of Santa Clause. He can wear any face you wish to see him in. He is always a he.

I have had many trees over the years, real cut trees, live in a pot and artificial. I no longer need to kill a tree for the holidays. But the spirit of the tree is not something I wish to live without.

36 years ago I lived on the western slope of the Sierra Nevada's on 77 acres in a luxurious house situated at the end of a ⅓ mile private drive way. The nearest town was Fiddletown at 3.5 miles. The driveway had a 12% grade in the middle. This property was filled with trees and the surrounding properties were as well. For our first Christmas there we went out into the woods with the bow saw and an axe. Every woodsman carries an axe even if you don't plan to use it. I mean carrying a bow saw over your shoulder just doesn't present the strong image of woodsman. It's just for show, the saw carried by the girls was used to cut the tree.

We went to a grove of crowded fir trees that I had spotted during warmer weather. In that grove we found a twin tree about 6 or 7 eight feet tall. They were perfectly straight and well filled out. I cut one of the trees which gave us a perfect tree that was flat on one side. All part of the plan. The tree that we left thanked us in the following years by filling in and looking magnificent for the developer with the bulldozer that mowed it down some years later.

When backed with the flat side against a wall that tree, when decorated, was beautiful. I have lost all the pictures of that experience but even though the picture has dimmed I can still see those pictures on the video screen in my head. I don't look in that box often because of certain regrets.

Our tree this year is an artificial tree that was abandoned at our house 15 years ago by wasteful people. It was a good quality imitation tree and with minor repairs I hope to make it last until I no longer celebrate the season. Every year I ask it to convey to the tree gods my regret for having wasted trees in an effort to burn the house down at Christmas. I don't know if it talks to real trees or not but being such a good replication must give it some sort of special dispensation.
Jolly Old Saint Nickolas a man after my own heart

Sunday, December 20, 2009

Old Fools Journal: First Blood

My new bike has drawn first blood.
It all happened while trying to turn that son-of-bitch around. It has a slight over-steer, I got to slow and ended up rolled into a ball on the ground with both knees bloodied. Then I think it kicked me.

Just scratches but the next day these 70 year old bones and muscles gave me a stern talking to.

It was mostly embarrassing but I looked around from my stable vantage point on the ground and the only one that saw me was this goat and all he said was WTF! I've seen this goat before or at least his cousin. He didn't seem to recognize me so I pressed on.

I added a bell with temporary mount.
It has a great ring.
I really love bells.

Also I added a rearview mirror. I know it is seen as dorky but around here it can save your life besides at my age what do I care about dorky.
Further test ride/trouble shooting/ break-in are on hold for a day or so.

Friday, December 18, 2009

Old Fools Journal: Things You Can Make With Sticks

There was this towel rack in the miniscule bathroom in my hovel that I hated. It was a piece of plastic from the 1960's and It was state of the art then. It was also ugly then. What were those people thinking? To its credit it still works after 40 years or so and I will clean it up and take it to the thrift store.
Maybe someone that is into ugly will use it.

So I took some sticks and my pocket knife and set out to make a new one.

It is two sticks of live oak and one of wild cherry.

Wild cherry or some say choke berry.

Below is live oak.
If you are into linear then this is not for you. There are no staight lines here just as in nature.

Thursday, December 17, 2009

Old Fools Journal: Early Adventures in Motoring or the foolishness of youth

Back in the olden times when I almost knew everything. Two years after this picture was taken (I was 14) I knew everything and I should have made my fortune but I didn't and as time went by I didn't know everything anymore.

This is a late 1940's Cushman three wheel motor scooter. It had a 4.5 or 5 horsepower flat head gasoline engine and a two speed transmission. There were springs on all three wheels and no shocks. It was clocked at 55 mph on a slight downhill and it was unsafe at any speed. I really had fun with it.

When my dad brought it home it was supposed to be for him to ride to work which he did for a while. It came with a section of an airplane cockpit. The plan was to add it to the scooter frame but it was never done. The cockpit was probably from a trainer and was very light and it had a sliding canopy. How cool would that have been. But like most plans the big picture was easy, the failure was in the details.

It didn't matter, the scooter was wonderful. In my mind I can still see the details and smell the smells. I turned it up on its side a few time and was ejected more than than a few times. When it started to turn over the centrifugal force was so great that there was no way a rider could stay on. The rider just kept going in a straight line and the scooter turned and went on it's way. It caused more than a little excitement. One of it's "safety features" was it would throw the chain. When that happened so it didn't go far.

One of the other "safety features" was the brake. I say brake because it only had one drum brake on the back wheel and it was ineffective. It's just as well because if it had good brakes it would have thrown the rider over the front then run him down.

The picture was taken in 1953 at our place on Rodney Parham Road west of Little Rock, Arkansas. Today this would be in the middle of a Kmart parking lot. Then it was paradise, I just didn't know it.

Sunday, December 13, 2009

Old Fools Journal: Cargo Bike Update #1

After two days of cold rain and aching knuckles it is time for a test ride. It was still misting this morning early but it was 62* F and going up. Perfect day for a test flight. These are not pictures of the finished product but I thought to publish some framework pics before burying it under racks.

I was not sure how it would feel as I relaxed the angle on the head tube to 68 degrees instead of the former 72 degrees which is what all my bikes are. That also set the seat back a little as the seat tube is more relaxed as well. It definitely feels different but after about 15 minutes or so I didn't notice it anymore. The head tube angle is easily adjusted by changing the length of the strut just behind the seat tube. The overall effect of this set up is it causes me to sit up straight and put my weight on my butt instead of my arms. It also gives a slightly crank forward feel which I like. The frame is solid feeling and comfortable with no sloppiness at all.
The chain is long and off course it flopped around and came off. Removing a couple of links fixed it I think. At least I couldn't get it to do it again. It will wait until I'm in traffic with a load then it will come off.
The shifter is the click stop type and is matched to the derailleur and works well. I'm not a fan of click stop shifters and very much prefer the friction type. At the first sign of trouble this one will go into the trash. The front brake failed because the damn fool that put it together forgot to tighten the pads.
The drive chain wheel is 39 teeth and the rear is 14 to 28 teeth. In the bottom gear it churns right a long through my sodden garden grass which is hard to ride in even when it's dry. The bottom bracket is the Astabula type one piece crank and is my preference. Parts are abundant and easy to find, no special tools required. I don't remember where I got this crank but it is a high quality cro-moly that shined right up. I have a three piece that will fit right in there but it is really heavy not to mention fugly.

I only use three speeds so six speeds is overkill. If this works out I hope to get a three or five speed internally geared coaster brake hub sometime in the future.
The kickstand is just for convenience now and will be replaced by a two leg center stand type. My other long bike uses two side kickstands and it works well enough. My 1975 Schwinn daily rider uses the stock Schwinn built in kickstand but it is inadequate when I have over 30 pounds on the back. I've dumped it twice with between 40 and 50 pounds on board. Both times it was sitting there loaded and OK, then it wasn't OK. How embarrassing. That's when I hear people, cats and some dogs muttering "Old Fool" under their breath. The dogs are the most forgiving.
Like all the other parts the fender came off a salvaged bike as did the sturdy stem which is turned around backward here to move the handle bars back a couple of inches. I have a matching back fender but depending on how I do the rear rack it may not be necessary. The handle bars are from a 1975 Schwinn.

As you can see from the pictures there is plenty of room for a long low profile rear rack. I have lots of funky ideas but probably it will be a custom rack made from ¾ x ⅛ 316 stainless bar stock. It's light enough, resistant to corrosion, strong and best of all I can work it. I haven't thought this part out yet and I haven't given up ideas in wood. I like wood.

Overall length is 82 inches (208.28 cm)
Wheelbase is 58 inches (147.32cm)
Weight is 36 lbs (16.36k) so far.
Crank arms 6.5 inches (165mm)
Seat height is 32 inches (81cm) so my short stubby legs reach the ground.
Front wheel 26" 36 spoke aluminum. 1.5" street tire.
Rear wheel 24" 36 spoke steel. 2.125" all surface tire.

Friday, December 11, 2009

Old Fools Journal: My Favorite Graffiti

Some graffiti is artistic, some is funny and some is just vandalism but this is profound. A reminder from someone who put it where we would see it.
I try to keep that in my mind at all times and I have been pretty successful over the years and as life wears on it gets easier to remember that things are just things.

I wish to be the change and I am trying
but even though I don't feel so much like a fish out of water here most of the time I do feel like the "Elephant In A Tree"

Today was the weekly "run the car day" to keep that 22 year old jalopy alive so I did errands. Good day for it as it never got above 48* F with a cold north wind. It is currently 46* F and raining. Depressing and the roof on my hovel leaks. I keep reminding myself that it is better than the boat as the boat leaked from the top and the bottom.

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

Old Fools Journal: Hank

I once knew a man by the name of Hank Law a Canadian from western Canada. I knew him as a result of sailing to the Sea of Cortez and hanging out there for a while. "A while" being seven years. Hank was a very interesting old man. I say old because he was always eighty something and at that time I was fifty something. It being that I saw him last about 18 years ago he would now be ninety something pushing 100. In human terms I believe that qualifies as old. He may or may not still be among the upright and walking around humans but to me he is immortal.

When I met Hank he was a grizzled old man in raggedly shorts and no shirt with twinkling eyes that were constantly on the move. Little did I know I would be seeing a lot more of him, literally, as he was a died in the wool nudist. Not a nudist in the card carrying formal sense but he could and would shed his clothes at the drop of a hat. Even if he had to drop the hat. If he had not become a dear friend I would never have known that he was an adventurer, gold hunter, rancher, boat builder, sailor, musician, writer, poet, maker, inventor, tinkerer, singer, humorist and a long distance bicycle rider. I presume that coast to coast in Canada qualifies as long distance
Desperado's. Hank, myself and Don the bug man.

According to him he was born in London near Westminster Abby. I know nothing of his young life which is not to say that he did not tell me but given that we were always drinking and singing songs when we were talking story I seem to have more than a few memory gaps. I remember that he left England in his late teens for Australia to seek his fortune and did well enough to get passage to Canada in his early twenty's. I am reasonably sure that he landed in Quebec in 1929 (10 years before I was born) with an undetermined number of Gold Sovereigns, youth and a willingness to work. According to his memoirs Quebec did not suit him.

More about his memoirs:
One day he handed me a stack of handwritten papers and said "read this and tell me what you think". I thought, oh no this is some kind of test and I am going to be bored. It was not and I was not. It started in 1929 with the landing in Quebec and went from there to an unremembered time in western Canada. Somewhere northwest of Vancouver in BC. I read it in one sitting. It was fascinating.

What I remember from his memoirs:
As I mentioned Quebec did not suit him so he bought a bicycle and set out for the west coast. His story was mostly of various jobs working his way across country but one stuck in my mind. It seems an Indian on a pony took up with him and they rode together for several days. According to Hank that Indian stayed with him until they could communicate well enough for him (the Indian) to ask the question of “why does the white man save his snot in a rag and carry it in his pocket”? Hank said that it would have been easier to answer “what is the meaning of life”?

Hank ultimately ended up in Vancouver as I recall and did well eventually owning and operating a cattle ranch somewhere northwest of there. He married had sons, divorced and moved on. He had a band at one time with his sons called “Hank and the Lawless” I believe. I used to have a recording of a tune they did that made the jukeboxes called “My Little Pony”. I may still have it in my “stuff” but I have so much “stuff” that I can't find it.

As happens to an adventurer blessed with a long life it become time to follow other dreams. Knowing nothing of the sea except what he had experienced traveling on ships and even less about building boats he decided to build one and sail away. So he did. A nice little twin keeled wooden ship. He built it on the ranch hauled it to the ocean, learned to sail it and went to the Sea of Cortez where I met him in Escondido Bay.

I ask Hank to tell me about the bicycle ride. He said it was as easy as any other part of life then. You got up in the morning and got on the bike and rode all day and made camp. Simple. It was cheaper than a horse (the only other choice besides walking) and you didn't have to feed it. It did draw attention. He believed that when he arrived on the west coast that he held the world record for long distant bike riding on the same bike. I have so many questions I would like to ask him now.

There are many little stories of Hank like when he fell into the bay one night and spent a very long time there (12 hours I seem to remember) before someone came along and helped him out. After that near death experience he moved ashore.

Then he ordered an a keyboard and set it up in his trailer and commenced to play and in a few months rented the local hall and gave a free concert for your dancing pleasure. SWMBO was the hostess for that event. She dressed as an old west dance hall girl. It was a fun night.

Hank was a dear friend and a fellow adventurer. My bride (She Who Must Be Obeyed) and I become very close friends with Hank. He was part of our family and for a time we took responsibility for each other.


The cargo bike is coming along nicely and I should have a report in a couple of days.

Saturday, December 5, 2009

Old Fools Journal: Fate Thwarted Again

As I have said before, boys and girls, bad things usually happen late on Friday so that you can do without whatever the bad thing caused until Monday when you can call a disinterested repair person. Fate determines this, I have been, told but fate obviously doesn't know that I am my own repairman and that I live on premises.

During the night Friday night or early Saturday morning the inefficient central heating in the "small house" quit. When I wandered in for breakfast the house was warm and cozy as can be. SWMBO (she who must be obeyed) had opened the oven and cranked it to 500 degrees. Looking into that oven with those elements pulling 70 amps or so was like looking into an electric forge which will melt steel. I don't have a tachometer on the electric meter but I'll bet it was turning about 8000 RPM which is around 200 MPH in a NASCAR race car. I've never seen one go around that fast. The meter which is on the outside wall of the bedroom was probably warming the bedroom through the wall.

So what to do? First thing is to get a space heater going. I have a propane radiant for emergencies so I broke it out and got it going. It's an unreliable "Mr Heater" product so I had to work fast as it was about 34 degrees outside. Which brings us to the rusty old art deco Electromode pictured above. I was offered this by my nieces (I should say one of my nieces as I recently acquired some more) husband nine or ten years ago. I took it somehow knowing that it would come in handy some day.

It is a 220 volt 2400 watt heater with thermostat and it kicks ass. I used it in my shop at the last place we lived so it had been in storage for over 4 years. Of course it didn't work. Not to worry I knew it came from an era when things were made to last, be maintained and fixed if necessary not thrown away.

Taking the back off by removing three screws I discovered this simple non electronic rugged construction. The little box in the upper left hand corner was the culprit. It is a purely mechancal on/off switch and thermostat. The copper tube at the bottom leading up to the back is its sensor. So simple and so effective. Like the switches in the old GMC bus I live in it is made to be disassembled and cleaned or fixed. So I did.

The rest is a so practical. The fan motor you see driving the five bladed fan (how classy is that) is a 110 volt motor that is seen in billions of phonographs, fans and other small appliances. It is wired between the two sandwiched heating elements seen in front of it with all the fins. The appliance runs on 220 volts and the fan taping off in the middle of the elements gets 110 volts. Clever those Americans. This is design from a era that I do so appreciate.

The next time you see this heater it won't be rusty and dirty. I am going to clean and paint this piece of art to look like something I am proud of but right now it is keeping the small house more evenly warm that the central heat ever did. It is 35 degrees outside now and I hope some drunk doesn't hit a power pole tonight.

Friday, December 4, 2009

Old Fools Journal: Teeth and How to Foolishly Lose Them

It is childish I know but these mechanical teeth have always made me smile. I found a set of these at the thrift store the other day but a lady linebacker beat me to them.

My wisdom teeth hadn't even grown in before I started losing my teeth. I didn't lose them because they were bad as I had inherited good teeth from my grandmother Hattie who still had hers when she passed on to wherever perfect grandmothers go. In fact they were excellent and broke my fall on many occasion. It was because of foolishness. I started losing them in pieces. The first was a piece of a bottom front tooth boxing with myself. Yes, that's right, I hit myself in the face while showing off. The only thing I showed off was that I wasn't too bright. It was a fair fight, I had on gloves.

A few years later I was climbing a rusty old swing set ladder that I knew wasn't safe to start with and the rungs gave way. That's OK though because I saved myself by breaking my fall with my front teeth on the top bar. Lost half a front tooth on that one. I may not have been a quick learner but I did learn to protect my face sort of. At least I didn't break anymore teeth for a while. I bit through my lip a few times but no more broken teeth except for one little one and I have no idea how that happened. Drunk probably. In the rare fight I had I protected myself by leading with my eyes and ears.

But then as I got older and wiser I counteracted the wiser part with alcoholic beverages. One night around 1980 give or take a year or two while sitting around nekkid (nekkid is naughty and is for fun, naked is vulnerable) with my girlfriend on this horse ranch we were involve in I had a good idea. I decided I needed to go for a horseback ride. I had come to this conclusion after having a few sips of Cuervo tequila chased with Dos Equis beer or was it Cinco Equis. This is where I have gotten a lot of my good ideas. For about six hours we had been having these sips while having profound but slightly slurred conversation about many deep subjects interspersed with hysterical laughter. Horse back riding came up I'm sure but I don't exactly remember much of the conversation. Knowing myself I must have decided that riding was the thing to do and that it had to be done nekkid of course. It was 1:30 or so in the morning, Mojave desert hot and with plenty of moonlight to see by. So here we go.

Taking the lead I sauntered off into the night (nekkid) to find my steed. There were two well trained retired show horses on the farm so going to their paddock I lead my favorite of the two to the fence and into position so that I could climb the fence and slide aboard. I slid aboard alright but only momentarily. That old horse didn't move a muscle but I slid right across its back then straight toward the center of planet Earth face first making a one point landing. That's alright though as my glasses broke my fall embedding the metal frame in my eyebrows. That old horse didn't move or say anything but I'm sure he was thoroughly disgusted. He never would look me in the eye after that.

When I wash my face I see a reminder of that event. It's a wonder I didn't break my neck. The glasses had the help of the half tooth I broke off on the swing set.

Of course I just laughed it off (I was a always happy drunk) until the tequila started to wear off and the pain from my front tooth started. I didn't feel so good. It was broken at the root.

The following week Dr. Don, a man of many talents but crazier than a outhouse mouse (what artist isn't?) fixed me right up. He is as old as I am and given my luck with old friends is probably dead now but if he is out there somewhere I'd like him to know that I can still eat corn on the cob with these fake teeth and they are the best looking part of me.

In the last six years I have had three perfectly good molars decide to reject my body. There was no reason except meanness. The teeth were good and the gum's were not infected. Those teeth just wanted out.

That's what I get for not dying young.

Thursday, December 3, 2009

Old Fools Journal: Tom Swaim's Bike Shop

These are the modern paint shop facilities at the "Tom Swaim Bike Shop".
These "state of the art " facilities include an anvil with moss growing on it and a swimming pool ladder in case a swimming pool comes along. The tri-pod is from a trampoline that flew in Hurricane Gustav. It was not stable in flight. After a spectacular lift off it crashed into the storage shed.

The can of paint on the anvil is the cheapest that can be bought at Wal-Mart. Twice now I've tried upgrading the paint and both times the higher priced cans just would not work or sputtered all over the place. I have used dozens of cans of this cheap stuff and never had a failure. The red I am painting over is this same paint and was put on in 2004. It has had hard use.

This bicycle was given to me by a bicycle shop here that is now defunct. The man at the shop said the frame was bent and the shifters could not be adjusted. I took it home adjusted the shifters and started riding it. I wonder why that shop went out of business. I bet he sold the poor bastard that brought this bike in a new one. I appreciate the gift. It is not trash to me.

When I started riding my 1975 Schwinn I used this as a spare for a while. Then it became a donor for the front wheel drive recumbent experiment which ultimately became a trike and was wrecked by an idiot fat kid.

For a bent frame give away it looks pretty straight to me and is the heart of the "Long Tail Cargo Bike" project.

The part hanging on the hook on the oak tree is the rear triangle from a Huffy 24 inch full suspension mountain bike, made in China I'm sure, but what isn't. The best part is it's really stout. Since I plan to overload it that's a good thing. I've already cussed it into submission in slurred American and it seems to understand.The drying room. The assembly room. Now that I gotten this far I'm not sure I want to use this frame. I have nice 24 inch cruiser frame that I am contemplating using. I think it would fit me better and it is a strong frame.
I think I'll contemplate that in my nice warm hovel as it is cold, rainy and my hands keep rejecting the cold wrenches.

Why Red? So the blood won't show.

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

Old Fools Journal: Stupid Flowers

These stupid flowers obviously do not have a calender or they would know that winter is coming on.

The garlic bed is made. The green tops are the garlic and onions I failed to dig up and they reseeded themselves. I planted elephant garlic this year. I will bury this under a bed of leaves before it gets down to freezing.

I'm still eating last years crop of garlic. It was all really stunted but is it powerful. I eat it raw everyday.
I don't expect much from the onions but the sets were free so what the hell.

Now look at these flowers. Bicycles and girls warm an old mans heart on a cold, rainy day.

The ugliest one is beautiful.