Glorious Bachelorious.

Thursday night, Jordan and I worked diligently, attempting to resurrect my grandpa's faulty computer. The software kept crashing, so we saved his information, formatted the hard drive, and reinstalled the software. The problem still wasn't fixed, but by then we were too tired to keep working so we called it a night. It was 12:10am and my bed was singing sweet love songs to me. Jordan bid me farewell and headed out to his car. A few minutes later, he called to inform me that his car was entrenched in thick, nasty mud in my driveway. I went out to help him escape the clay prison, and we finally succeeded. At 12:30, I jumped into my bed.

I awoke Friday morning to find my driveway had not dried out, as I had hoped, but looked even worse than it had at 12:15. 

I buried my car five inches into the soupy clay before changing tactics and using pieces of wood to provide traction. I finally got to high ground and drove to work.

The cool weather we've had this week has meant the business phones have been quiet, giving us a welcome break from service. But no rest for the weary! We tore off more shingles on my dad's house today. Yesterday we tore off shingles, and Wednesday we poured cement at Pathway Christian School.

After work, I headed out to check on my sequoias. I'm not entirely sure if I've mentioned this already, but several of my beautiful little saplings have died. Horace and Amaya struggled and survived two floods, but the third flood proved to be too much, and they gave up. Douglas is looking pretty sickly, but I'm hoping he'll pull through. But all is not lost! Sherman is leaping skyward each week. He's a stout, vibrant 12" at least. Kermit and Hugo are still snug in their concrete cinder block, but they're growing quickly so I'll be transplanting them back in the yard soonish.

But I didn't stop for long to admire the trees. I was headed to the riverbank to send a few Easter eggs to their watery grave with a new rifle I just picked up. After a long week of work, sinking little plastic toys is very therapeutic.

The upper rifle is my IWI Tavor SAR, which fires .223 cartridges. The lower rifle is my brother Shane's Hi-Point 9mm carbine. Both guns have a 16.5" barrel, but the Tavor is much shorter because it is a bullpup. (NOTE: Men, that link contains incredible, amazing, interesting information on a revolutionary weapon design that has slowly but surely changed the way we think about firearms. Women, that link is incredibly boring and has nothing to do with male cows or little dogs.)

I then swooped up my lovely grandma Ruth on a gluten-free date to Monica's Italian Bistro, and we had a splendid time eating salads and pizza while Grandma told me stories about growing up. Grandma is always a joy to be with, and since Grandpa is currently on a long bus trip (he drives tour buses with Windstar), I seized the opportunity to spend some time with Grandma.

Earlier this week, I made a wax bomb. Well, it was more of a giant fireball than it was an explosion. All that you require is a kettle or pot that you wouldn't miss if it suddenly disappeared/became mangled. Toss some old candles in there, and then place the whole thing over some blazing coals. Once the wax has melted and begins to bubble, pour a small amount of water on the wax. FWOOOOOOM! No more eyebrows! Unless, of course, you thought ahead and poured the water from a distance by means of a measuring cup duct-taped to a rake handle.


You! Yes you there, young teenaged man reading my blog. I know that our culture places a lot of emphasis on dating, or at the very least, relationships with females. But let me be the rebellious naysayer in the crowd and tell you to enjoy the freedoms God grants only to bachelors. Yes, there is a time for dating, a time for relationships and marriage. But until that time, delight in the plans God has for you! Fill your days with exploring, inventing, discovering, and conquering! I'm not saying that you'll lose all of those things when you begin to date, but there's a certain dynamic that changes alongside the change in your relationship status.

Enjoy the precious, fleeting days of single-hood. I sure am!



P.S. I thought about starting this blog with the disclaimer, "Do not try this at home." but quickly realized that it would be hypocritical. So I'll make my own disclaimer:

Please do not injure yourself with hot wax, firearms, kidnapping grandmothers, pushing cars out of swampy driveways, pouring concrete, tearing computers apart, or stabbing shingles off a steep roof with a pitchfork.