OK.  Let me preface my comments by saying that I am not whining. And, while I do believe a more traditional testosterone driven thought pattern would simplify much in my life, I am both content and happy with me the way I am.  Secondly lent me say that as I point out others reactions to my eccentricities, I am not judging them or finding any fault.  I am merely making observations of what I perceive to be normal males.

I’ve lived in this house for a little over 2.5 years.  For nearly 2 years of that our ice maker did not work. Why?  There was a leak in the water line to it.  I knew exactly where the leak was.  We went without because I was intimidated by the prospect of replacing the entire waterline.  Moving out appliances, snaking line without crimping and causing a new leak.  I eventually hired my Amish neighbor and best friend Joe to do it.  I bought the entire replacement kit.  He opened it pulled 3 prices, cut out the leak, and spliced the ends back together. Total labor time? 15 minutes testing and all.  Why didn’t my brain think of this? Was I embarrassed? No, it’s Joe. He knows I’m not right.

I’ve been trying to buy some tobacco sticks for use As tomatoes takes for two weeks now.  Then something in my brain hiccuped and said u have a miter saw and a huge pile of cedar 1 x 2 scraps……make your own.  So that’s what I did this evening.  All by myself.  No help.  And I can still count to 10 on my hands.  I am so excited.   I wanna tell someone… To brag.  Unfortunately,  not to many people get excited when a grown man uses his own power tool to cut a stick.  

Sean:  Dad! I used my miter saw to cut tomato stakes all by myself!

Dad: (pregnant pause) uhhhhh…that’s good.

It just doesn’t seem to work no matter how you play it.  I could tell Joe.  He gets me or maybe just feels sorry for me.  He pushes me to develop man brain.  Even told me he would not build me a barn door.  Says I have to start doing things for myself. And I’m gonna build that door too. You watch and see.  A barn door is ALLOWED to be crooked.

Speaking of pregnant, this is a picture of my 8 month pregnant daughter Brontë weeding her green beans while I drove my tomato stakes today.

And these are cookies that Joes wife Ida made and gave me in trade for eggs that my chickens laid and I gave her.  I think I got the long end of that deal.  I love her cookies.