Detritus

Bubble wrap is the easy answer. You can see where rumors are started. I once had a relationship fail because I didn't eat fried eggs correctly. You can imagine how those chips fell. I have no interest, but I watch. I consider myself almost normal. I know I'm not, I have ample evidence. Listen, nothing is what it seems, consider the road-side chicory, an impossible blue, what we really know is almost nothing, but yet, there it is. At what I think of as the wood depot, actually a place they allow brush and trees to be dumped for grinding into mulch, I get a load of red maple, then another today, pre-cuts, five inch rounds thirty inches in diameter, maybe eighty pounds green, but sliced so thin, so much exposed surface area, they'll be dry in no time. Excellent firewood, hot and little ash. Another load tomorrow. I might be working on next year's wood. This system is panning out, letting Asplunt do the heavy lifting. Factoid, further research into Pacific settlement, in the 15th century Chinese ships were the largest in the world, 300 feet LOA with up to 9 masts. I try and picture the rigging but it is beyond my powers. These ships were in the Pacific NW before Columbus, maybe way before. At the museum the basement has flooded again, the toilet clogged with shit and paper which has overflowed into a fetid tangle and I employ the Darren Technique to get things working, spend several hours mopping, bleach everything. There was a class at Janitor College, "The American Female And Public Rest-Rooms" which, at the time, seemed sexist, but now I know to be true, god, what a mess. I have a plan for the slumber party, a menu, a schedule, I can't feed six or eight people without a plan. Even the path to the outhouse is overgrown and I don't have enough beds, and I've been away, the house is trashed, everything in the fridge is history, and my brain is not working correctly. Love's labor lost.