Yeah, baby. The Cronks have (had) a plethora of less-than-beautiful apples in their backyard from the old apple tree. First we grabbed a handy tennis racket and taught them the meaning of...tennis raquet; then we got ol' Bertha out and really put the fear of God in those apples. That's not apple you see exploding off the head of that driver.
That's fear.
word.
and Happy Birthday Nathan. I'm taking my car off the road.
--
and for the record, Chuckles, NO! Dear God no! I do not work for Houghton Custodial. Oh. You said Maintenance. No. Not yet. That would be cool though. I landscape with Creekside Landscaping, a.k.a. Allan Yanda. And pick up odd ambulance shifts in nearby Springville. And cut down trees with Glen Falkhe. And do odd jobs for pretty much anyone who will pay. And maybe in a few weeks, I will wear the grey of the faithful Houghton Safety and Security. We shall see. I'm becoming a bona fide community member. See also: bona fide day laborer. Yeah!
4 comments:
I wonder how those apples would respond to the application of a 0.22-inch diameter slug of lead, traveling at high velocity?
(Although that's not exactly a back-yard treatment...said treatment is more suitable for a secluded valley with a long sight-range and a suitable hillside for a backstop...)
Holcomb,
I miss you, maybe we can hang out over Christmas break!!
grins The apples look like fun. ;) I'll let you know when I come up to Houghton. Probably around mid-November. Man, I miss Houghton!
later!
Rachel
Wow. Day labourer. That's pretty intense. Glad to see that things are working out!
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