Our morning is dark with hard rain and the lights of the shop glow intensely and the traffic gives that wet tire zing as it flows on the street. My office window has a tin overhang and the rain pounds it like lead shot which is very soothing, and I'm darn near ready for a nap before the clock strikes nine.
I guess I haven't a need to state the obvious, but I will - I've been in a grave deep funk, depression if you will, these last few weeks. The reason, or reasons, are not important, they're mine alone and I shall deal with them.
I've lost myself in books. Long hours here at the shop. On a bright note, Sweet Wife has joined her church choir. She sings like a Nightingale. I've attended the last two Sunday services as support. I like to see her, standing among the group, her cute little shy smile like a ray of sun on a cloudy day. She's happy. And now, she wants to return to school for a nursing degree. She's had it with the financial world. I told her she has my full support. I'll live on beans and rice to make her goals come true.
I truly appreciate your support as I've taken this wee bit of time away from the internet and my blog. I will make every effort to continue to write, weak as my limited talent allows.
I take it, give it a glance and return it to him, "No."
So I explained that first of all it was a ticket to ten years in federal prison. It was once a twenty-two rifle, old and I thought perhaps once upon a time a military training rifle. The barrel had be shortened to just shy of ten inches by hacksaw. It's stock removed by same to form a hand grip. Black tape applied - ugly. The bolt and magazine were both missing. Useless.
Him, "Oh. Well, okay, here you can have it." He walks out.
I gave it to a friend. My friend likes ugly stuff.