|Maybe a hunnert years ago, IDK|
There's a fellow out front of the Tiny House right now who looks very troubled. He seems to be about to saw something off the new porch that he's spent the week adding to the house.
This man is Biff, of course.
He's putting on a new porch because, reasons. Like:
- We had to replace the front door because the frame was rotten. Or 'eaten,' more like.
- Then it was clear that more of the house was being eaten, so a feller came out to treat the areas where the FUC-ing termites were still noshing, but to do that he needed to drill 17 million holes in the FUC-ing concrete porch in order to douse the sill plate with bug-b-gone, therefore ruining the tile flooring and, of course, any hope of water-tightness of the porch and underlying aforementioned sill plate.
- Thus, the porch was ripped off of the house because holes and things. Biff didn't really like it anyhow.
- One thing leads to another, and in the end it was discovered that more snacking had been done, which meant that the sill plate (I think that's the term) had to be completely replaced on the front of the house, many calculations made as to the proper and correct way to ensure the house didn't in fact fall in on itself while the replacing was being done, and many man-hours spent doing heavy man-things like hauling, and hammer wielding, and toting, and sweating, and eeeeech.
- Then foundation piers needed to be sunk and poured, drains needed to be placed and arranged to ensure the water flow will henceforth be OUT to the yard instead of IN to the foundation, and subsequently the deck framing needed to be built (that was today) and!
- Decking needed to be installed so that a ladder could be placed on top to ensure adequate access to the top of the porch roofline which is exposed to the elements and needs to be Tyvek'ed in so that the forecast rains of tomorrow don't soak the insulation and further fuc- things up.
Still not entirely certain what the saw was for, I'll admit.
BUT!! As much as all that is to take in, that's not even the guy on the porch of which I intended to speak, it just so happens that Biff is the current guy on the porch, and he's darned cute and a hardworking Summasumpn besides, so he needed a lil' spotlight.
(cue sounds of clinking spurs and lonesome harmonica wails)
I was a-settin' in my recliner here in the living room of the Tiny House, from which I have a pretty good view of whomever approaches the front door. Note: This was at a moment during which there WAS no front porch, but rather an impressive construction zone of red clay, concrete piers, and various stages of Something's Happening Here. NOT a place in which you would expect to ascertain a certain man's head approaching the front door, undeterred by obstacles.
And yet, there he was. Bespectacled, dark of hair and beard, kind of eye, unsure of what the heck he's gotten himself into, but determined to finish whatever task was at hand. He approached the front door, appeared to place something against it, then began his retreat.
Out of curiosity, and a faint notion that he did not in fact look like a bomber, I went to the door and opened it to see a small package place on the doorsill. Recognizing the bag, I shouted to him "Hey, you from the bookstore?" to his retreating back, to which he turned, waved, and answered in the affirmative before continuing his walk back down our street to some unseen conveyance.
Y'all, I think he might have walked all that way back to the store.
It was a lovely evening, after all. Who could blame him?
And so, this is how we know that, even with the sprawl happening all around us, we do still live in a small town, in which bookstores deliver, sometimes on foot, and almost never with a bomb.
Independent bookstores matter. Thank you, Page 158 books here in DTWF - we LOVE y'all.