Four-wheel Drive

Can't live this life without 4-wheel drive. Have to wait one more day to get home, Went out, but the driveway was undoable. Backed down, and redrove into town. Pegi's having a rehearsal for the last two performances of the Xmas show that will be at the museum. Zoo time, 100 small kids and their parents; fortunately the building is sound-proof. I'm reading more of Mary's letters. There's a biography in them, actually, two of them, but I don't feel like writing them. Nor capable. Washed the last 75 flutes, love my baby-bottle brush. We ordered some heavy cardboard storage boxes for them; I'd been keeping them in Budweiser long-neck cases, but they rattle around. Handled over 200 glasses twice and didn't break one. I carry a great many scars, from before I learned to be very careful. I still bleed fairly often by most people's standards, mostly because I live in the woods and don't always wear gloves. I wanted to be home tonight, working on my Black Dell; it's warmer, and I needed to ferry in supplies for this weekend. The Insulation Fest. I'm looking forward to it. I have a disposable jump suit. I duct-tape my wrists and ankles, vasoline my nose, cover my ears, and take my breaks outside. You don't want to contaminate the inside of your house with this shit. Two four hour stints in three days, nothing I have to do; I'll have time to read, so I need to go to the library. Noticed I was short on whiskey, and needed to buy a bottle, I really have to do my laundry, the truck smells like dirty socks. What I do, that I like, is nail certain things down. You and whatever that was.