Reblogged from My Friday Blog. Thank you very much, Josh. We are all mentally ill some or all of our lives. If we and society are fortunate, we get treatment when we need it.
I found some great vintage chairs to redo for my patio. I couldn’t be trusted. Bud was possessed, got out his blow torch, torched and wire brushed the paint that was left. He straightened the frames, rewelded a few areas, put new casters on several of the legs. He primed and made beautiful new seats out of pine. I did come out and started taping the metalwork while he went to bathroom. This is my work, which occasioned him to say, “Shit, Honey!” when he returned. The first picture is his work, the second, mine. Look at the beautiful pine white pine seats he made. Isn’t he amazing? We have $80 invested in these chairs. Now, on to the table. It is a sunflower mosaic on plywood, on a base he made about 30 years ago. Pictures of that later.
“Them that don’t work, don’t eat.” We must have looked like a hungry bunch because Daddy made sure we worked. Farm work was a regular thing, but when Daddy had invited folks in for a holiday, he kicked it into high gear. The place had to be groomed; brush cut, fence rows cleaned out, fields bush hogged. It was always good to have Continue reading