Spaztastik

Not even one cloud could be seen for entertainment sake as I lay flat on my back, the cement pad as a bed, suffering back spasms. Usually I go inside and flop on the futon, which is laid out like a bed in the back room when my back says ‘Screw you, we’ve had enough.’
Couldn’t make to the futon, so I laid down after dragging the last box out of the garage and behind our gate. Been feeling the pain every since and not even three shots of whiskey has managed to mask the pain of my ‘four and five.’

Laughingly, both dogs came over to see what was going on. Yaeger gave me a sniff, then wandered off to piss in the yard, while Buddy felt it necessary to lay on me and lick my sweaty face.

We’re getting up early in the morning, so we can go buy glue and insulation. And as I sit here, tapping out these words, I realized that I’ve no idea how I’m going to insulate the ceiling other than hanging some drywall first.

Before I put up the insulation, I plan to hide a family picture and short note in an envelop so that one day, after my wife and I are gone, and our son has sold the place, a family doing some remodeling will find it and learn a brief history of their home. I’ve always wanted to do this and though my wife poo-poo’d the idea, I’m doing it anyway.

Think I’ll add a ‘Trump 2020’ sticker and a Comstock Chronicle too, so they’ll also have some dated memorabilia.