The shortest giant
On one of those late days of early summer
Jumped down onto the highest mountain
To raucously enjoy the quiet clamor
Of the hoarse screaming banshees
The art, adventures, wit (or lack thereof), verse, ramblings, lyrics, stories, rants & raves of Christopher R. Bakunas
The shortest giant
On one of those late days of early summer
Jumped down onto the highest mountain
To raucously enjoy the quiet clamor
Of the hoarse screaming banshees
The best time to start investing your money in real estate instead of just spending it on rent was probably thirty years ago.
The second best time is right about now.
Someone wealthy and wise said that, but I have no idea who.
Number one on my list of things I could do that would make life more enjoyable/manageable/actually livable:
Get some rest.
It sounds bizarre to hear myself say it, but I'm getting so accustomed to it that I do not know how to not get up and get ready for work.
Seriously, I have today off and I got up and went through my usual routine preparing for to go to work before I caught myself.
This is a problem.
The other day MM & I were watching a re-broadcast of an episode of the show Cops.
Or rather, he was watching an episode of the show Cops while I was unpacking the new printer and occasionally looking over at what was on the TV.
The show opened with the pursuit of a vehicle that had expired tags on the license plates. The pursuit was short as the vehicle pulled over fairly quickly, in the parking lot of a strip mall.
As the officer approached the vehicle MM said "Hey, that's Spring Valley, near the car wash."
I looked up and sure enough it was SV, the good ol' stomping grounds of my glorious, misspent youth.
As the cameraman zero'd in on the driver of the pulled over vehicle MM commented again, "I know that guy, he was always carrying."
Which is all you need to know about the neighborhood I formerly called home.
Some years ago I posted a picture of a sculpture that had been placed on the median of Alameda just west of Wadsworth. It had nothing on or around it to identify the creator, and I had never seen any other work that resembled it to help identify the creator, so I simply wrote that the sculptor was unknown.
Here is another pic of that particular sculpture that I took the other day.
They were placed in and around a shopping center located in north Denver, and the must have been there for some time, as the look a bit weathered.
Again I scrutinized each and everyone of the trove of sculptures for a name (or names) and again I came up with nothing.
So I'm just going to post the pics I took and maybe someday someone will recognize them and know who created them, and inform me of the sculptors identity.
The knocking on the door continued, loudly, without rhythm, yet constant. The question went from "Should I answer the door?" to "Should I get a baseball bat before I answer the door?"
Well, according to the World Happiness Report (yep, there's a W.H.R. drawn up every year), they go hand-in-hand - hard not to be happy when you're prosperous.