jack-boots and kilt

I woke up on the 4th of July to the acrid smell of my backyard billowing giant yellow plumes of smoke. I remember Ezra waking me up at 11am as he was raking the rest of the stickerbrush that I'd macheted out of the front yard the week before into the pile I made in the backyard. Then at 4:00 I stumbled outside to see that he had burned the piles, and left thinking all the fires were out. The neighbours were peering over their fence like Al Borlin and asked me if everything was ok, and I said, "...I think so", then they informed me that they'd called the fire dept. So they got there and chopped up the logs 'cause they were still burning inside.

Later at work, during lunch some people at my table were taking about clay shoes made with plastecine. And I went "plastecine trees..." and for some reason I drew a blank and couldn't remember the rest. And a good 3 or 4 minutes later, after concentrating as hard as I could, just when I thought nobody heard me say that, somebody 5 people down from me (my boss Ken) went "and looking-glass ties." I popped my head up wide-eyed and went "Yes!" Still I don't think anybody heard either of us. But for the rest of the night everybody was singing Beatles songs and talking about them. Even people that weren't at that table.


(found on flickr. how cool is that?)