I added a wordpress app to my Smartphone and decided to test drive this bad boy at St. Augustine’s Cracker Barrel (I’m a rebel like that), seeing that my Mom and sisters are visiting the local outlets and the intermitent Floridian deluges are stoppering any attempt to sightsee the city’s copious forts and gator farms. Soooo … I’m posting tons of photos over the next several weeks in part because Disney saps the life out of you but mostly because I’m rather lazy writer. Thus, if you’ve developed a healthy lassitude to the written word, enjoy! If not, well read War and Peace or better yet my other blog posts – some are even longer than a Russian novel so go crazy you kooky sesquipedalian.
Well, a month or so has passed since I’ve written about my brother’s house; mostly as we leave behind the lumberjacking portion of the construction and begin laying sticks and bricks, my presence on the job site is becoming less and less necessary. Considering my skill with a hammer, the helpful absence of one additional carpenter can only speed along completion — not to mention reduce injury.
Still when you stop to imagine the lifetimes spent building the pyramids of Giza, the great cathedrals of Europe, and the Baltimore beltway, you appreciate the speed and efficacy with which we construct the modern home. Thus, I wanted to post the first and latest pictures from Pat and Tiff’s property, hopefully illustrating the construction timeline for the last two months. Continue reading
We stand at the edge of a storm, the third in the last week, predicted to unload another six inches of snow overnight. Like prison bars, the icicles stretch far outside the windows down to the lower drifts, which swollen with the piles deposited from the roof consumes much of the view of the back porch and my lil’ sister if she should venture outside. The blizzards of the last few weeks were efficient tyrants, burying all of the driveway, several of vehicles, and most of the house, locking its occupants inside together for a week. And still it continues to fall. After only a few days, the kids grew tired of the house walls and the blank empty landscape outside. Pining for girlfriends and jobs, the boys race outside with snow shovel and plow as soon as the last flakes fell, eager for the return of status quo.
Just when you thought it was safe to plow . . . the snow begins again. Wave 2 of this winter storm, what the newscasters have brilliantly dubbed “Snow-apocalypse 2010,” is presently frosting the canals and alleyways we’ve constructed over the last few days for vehicles and emergency egress lest one of us accidentally swallow a Monopoly hotel or a bear attacks — it happens.
Thus, I am forecasting a slow week here at Murphey’s Pub and a perfect opportunity for a little photojournalism to showcase the blizzard for those readers in Brazil, which I imagine doesn’t receive much of this stuff. Continue reading