Today the chainsaw disintegrated in my hand 4/5ths through a log. The chain may have been on backwards, and the nuts holding the front plate on certainly were looser than they should have been. Every lesson up here is learnt the hard way. Ladeedadeeda.
Pinecones have been an essential. All my firestarting prowess is tied up in them. When I take the doggos out on their walks we usually stroll to the big dead oak out in the southern pasture. Along the way there are (were) a lot of prime pinecones. Ones dry and full of oil, perfect with little prickers on the edge of every leaflet. Then the three days of rain came, and the next time Buster Jr, Baldwin Gray, and I went for a stroll all the pinecones were soaked and closed for business. I never knew pinecones on the ground close like that in weather, but I guess everything has its cadence, whether we can tap in that tempo or not. Ladeedadeeda.
The business of living sweeps things up in aires that you have to scratch your head at. Mad at this, worried about that, keep tabs on this, looking at that. The Buddha figured it out pretty well, the whole consciousness in a container thing, it taking the shape of whatever. But then you look in your pinecone bag and realize you’re out of fucking pinecones! Damn! Ladeedadeeda!
A weird thing about people is how quiet they can be. Sometimes when you hear a gunshot you should give a shot back. Never know if they just didn’t realize they had neighbors. And when you bring a gift to introduce yourself to your neighbors, that gift doesn’t need to be food. Sometimes the best gifts are ones that burn slow. Ladeedadeeda.
Three rules - be kind, try your best, be honest. Three watchouts - pride, envy, and judgment. Saying someone is “the main character” is a funny post-modern phrase. Who is the object and who is the subject? What truly separates a human from a gearbox? There will always be a larger web that understands more than you. Just because you can’t speak the language doesn’t mean there’s no words on the wind. Ladeedadeeda.
I wish I knew more Johnny Rotten Jokes. I remember working at the Doubletree Hilton across the river from DC- there was this black guy who was the cook, and had an incredibly deep voice, and always looked in dull anguish or depressed anger. Told him a joke to break the silence one time and he cracked up. Shook the steel trays, and it was like his skin peeled off and there was pure gold on the inside. Ladeedadeeda.
Gnight
Ari
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