And an old-timey bike.




Goddamn, I sneaked past yet another Valentines day unscathed. Wifey and I decided long ago that since her birthday is right before Christmas, and mine is on February 16 (happy birthday to me, bitches), that we'd just sorta ignore all those bullshit hearts and flowers. Imagine my combined feelings of joy and smugness as I stood in line at Fred's last night while the doofus in front of me dropped like, $36 on some crappy flowers, a card, and a bottle of Cook's, while in my basket resided nothing but a six of Oly tall boys, a loaf of bread, and some baby wipes. All the essentials, yo.

The weather has been sweet the last couple of days. Frosty in the mornings, but precious little of the wet stuff for a change. Portlanders call this a false spring. You'll get some 60 degree days in February, and everybody goes apeshit. It's hard not to. There are bulbs coming up in the yard, and the quince looks like it's about to bloom. It won't last. I know were gonna pay for this. It's gonna fucking rain until June.

This is the fucked-up handrail/staircase I just finished building. Two months of very difficult work. It's beautiful.



I'm gonna sleep in until 7 tomorrow, do the paycheck loop, go out for a birthday breakfast, and then go lay some tile (it ain't as sexy as it sounds).
There are far too many things in this world that need my attention, but I'm just gonna try to take it a little bit easy this weekend. Do the same, friends.