Life has layers.
There is currently an old house that I pass on the way to pick up my mail which has stripped out a patch of old, gnarly juniper bushes. They sat on the south side of the house, below the old coal shoot so the house was probably built in the early 20th century. When the junipers disappeared, it exposed a dribble of coal down the side of the slope to the walkway.
I picked up a piece today. I already have a sample from another old house, but it was just a nice little palm sized example of anthracite. It made me think about coal in somebody’s stocking if they had been bad around Christmas time.
It would not be the worst thing in the world to get a chuck of coal in your stocking in the dead of winter if you heat with coal. It might provide enough heat to keep you alive until you figure out how to be a better person.
Further up the drainage.
In the early spring, the drainages off the mountain reveal what the snow has uncovered.
breeds new things.
Becareful what you look for,
you just might find it.
might just be old things.
When looking for glass
from the beginning of the last
century, you see strange things,
The van has been to visit the salamanders by the creek. They magicked it alive but advise caution. We may have an ignition problem that is causing the starter motor to fry. We have arranged a ritual on the upcoming full moon. I hope it is not too close to the coming retrograde Mercury. The wind is dying down slowly, and the skies are azure. All the low pressure is building to high pressure.
That wonderful feeling and smell of fried electrics as you cost to the concrete railing on the viaduct without power and all the warning lights on the dash glowing. I had just reset the radio stations too! It is starting to feel a lot like hoodoo, but maybe the new moon and electrical specialists will fix the problem. It was not just the starter, and I am out of white sage. Legging it again.
Starters are better than solenoids, at least for cheap repairs. The move and the search continue, mounted again.