It was another beautiful day in North Iowa, and thankful for it because I was working myself silly with all the personal chores I had to attend to on a day that’s supposed to be a holiday. I teasingly said to a friend of mine this afternoon, “I was told from the time I came down the chute that Labor Day was a National holiday set aside for everyone to get out and get some heavy-duty laboring done.”, which is exactly what I did nearly the entire day, and totally fine by it.
My first order of business, was to remove several large rocks from a yard which were creating mowing issues. I managed to get one of them loaded, but the other was too heavy for even two people, so it got re-purposed and planted in an area which wouldn’t be so much of a mowing nuisance. The other one was taken somewhere else where I’m now starting a collection of larger-sized field stones.
I’ve always had an affinity for glacial field stones, and from the time I was young, I was always carrying or dragging them into the dooryard where I would create rock beds, and if they were appropriately placed in rustic patterns of size and color, they’d be just as attractive as flowerbeds. Now don’t think me a fanatic over them because every time I drive out to our landfill, I can’t help noticing how overboard that guy who lives next door has become with his fascination/possession with field stones. I dare say his dooryard screams of over-kill.
My next project was to get some refuse loaded for a trip to the landfill this week and likely not go out there until Friday because I really don’t want to get stuck in that muck from yesterday’s rain. I did save back a number if items I’ve earmarked for a dear one whom I’m sure will manage to get them in the hands of those who’ll appreciate such stuff. Yes, another man’s junk is another’s treasure which I’m all for because I absolutely hate throwing things away which could be put to good use by others.
Early this afternoon, I did about an hour’s worth of stripping of varnish on three pieces of oak which were beginning to scream at me, “Strip me!”, so I listened to their voices and got cracking. There’s been much done, and when looking at it today, I’d say I’m over half-way there. Now that all the painted surfaces are stripped, the removal of varnish will move along much faster.
I took another look at that 100 year old oak mirror frame which I stripped of its paint, and since its 1/4 inch thick mirror has too many blemishes in it, I’ll likely go ahead and buy a similar-sized and thickness mirror for it. Since I’m not a big fan of mirrors, I may have it permanently installed above a sink which faces a wall instead of the normal window position. I’ve done that before and it works quite well for anyone being at their kitchen sink and not having anything to look at. As chance would have it, the wall I’m thinking of hanging it on, faces a double kitchen window, so anyone standing at the sink would be able to see the outdoors in that mirror. Now when speaking about it, that may be exactly what I’ll do with it.
My last laborious task on this Labor Day, was for me to get back at cleaning a filthy house which the previous occupant insisted before moving out, would be cleaner than it was prior to moving in. Not in the least bit true to the point I’ve gone from being disappointed to downright angry. Over two hours were spent sweeping and vacuuming the basement and for the reason being there were hundreds of cobwebs strung about. While down there I couldn’t help wondering how anyone would want to do laundry with all those many webs hanging from floor to ceiling. It all goes back to the core life-lessons parents no longer teach their children, and if no one has ever shown them differently, they just move on without the slightest of concerns or cares.
While driving back to my office, I noticed a Mohawk Hockey sign on the embankment across from Culver’s which is likely an enticement for students and the public to jump on board with it, but definitely not me as I despise such overly-physical contact sports, and I’ve been of such mindset my entire life.
Why would anyone want to encourage their children to be combative with other students and possibly find their little darlings ending up with some life-long haunting injuries? There are far many more competitive sports which aren’t as physically threatening besides football, hockey, rugby and even soccer. I’d much prefer the all-American sport of baseball, basketball, swimming, cross-country, tennis, and my list goes on.
I’m sure our City’s “dark circle” is pushing for more to use that new arena which I’ll always consider being a huge mistake on the part of the “dark circle”, and whenever driving past, I whisper, “What a waste of tax-payer’s dollars.” Oh well, time will tell.
Getting back on this business of combative sports. Have you ever wondered if such sports being encouraged from an early age, possibly having something to do with all the brutalities that are growing in numbers in our nation? It would take some convincing to get me to believe there’s no connection because whenever thinking back, I remember some real brutes who played combative sports who didn’t stay married very long, and then went on to the next, and then the next. Kinda makes a person wonder doesn’t it? Just recently I was threatened by such in a cloaked fashion who’s been big into combative sports since he was young, along with my personally seeing some serious damages he made while likely having one of his neanderthal temper tantrums. As far as I’m concerned, it’s OK to be competitive but not combative.
Tonight’s one-liner is: The public is a ferocious beast; one must either chain it or flee from it.