Hammer Down

Back in Missoula college days I took a carpentry job working for a nice guy who overlooked my lack of carpentry skills. We discussed this and I lamented the gaps in my woodworking abilities but he insisted my ignorance was trumped by the fact that I appeared for work and was not bankrolling a drug habit with my earnings. There had been other employees who did not share these qualities.

So we got along. And he insisted I purchase proper tools, sending me back to the store when I first appeared with a cut-rate pounder, measurer and pouches to carry them in.

I explained I didn't have much in the way of money, which is why I was working, so he gave me a framing hammer of his own.

I've always liked that hammer. It ain't fancy. It's a Stanley. No big whoop. But, you know, it was a gift from my boss.

And I've pounded nails with it for, what? fifteen-ish years? Also pounded my thumb with it once or thrice. I have a fondness for that hammer.

Then I broke the goddamn thing the other day. Prying a nail out of some board and c-c-c-rack, there went the wood.

I put a new handle on there, but ah, it's not the same.

Please Don't Splash Me: Cage Match On the River

Thirty teenagers. Water, water everywhere. Teenagers squirting and throwing water everywhere. It's odd, but I don't know a river guide that enjoys water fights.

Paul caught in the melee. Hang in there Pauly.

It's part of the deal and I'm all for people enjoying themselves on float trips -- but something about getting shot in the eye with a stream from a Super Soaker just doesn't excite me.

So when two rafts are about to engage in a water exchange, you turn your bow to face the onslaught and distance yourself as much as possible. The rest of the time you pick up paddles that have been dropped in the river, retrieve sunglasses that have been knocked off someone's face and wait for the armistice.

Then you float into some rapids and the same kids who were just moving gallons of water around to wet other people shy away from being splashed by a wave. Interesting.

Perfect Opportunity

Heading out for four days on Old Man River, so this would be a good time if you were planning on robbing my house.

O, wait, no . . . it would be a good time if you like boobytraps and houses guarded by two Canadian wolves and a housesitter packing heat. So keep that in mind.

And now, I present a picture of a rock with some kind of grid shadow thing going on. Beautiful. Just . . . I don't know how I do it.

And some leaves. Forgot to mention those.

Horsies

Part One of my series: Photos of Horses Taken Way Too Far Away and Way Too Up Close. It's groundbreaking stuff.

It's like the White Album, but with a horse and some sticks in the corner.

Legs, tail, cute baby horse nose. It's all there. I was just trying to get a blurry picture of some fence wire but those caballos got in the background.