There were boats in the bayous last night. Like row boats. Except they were sunken. Small abandoned things fishermen would use. Lumbering only partly submerged. Four years and some change in those thick Southern waters. Floating wounds. Unhealed since Katrina. How long will they drift out there? Do their owners know they are there? Or even miss them?
My forehead is almost done shedding. All new skin under the dry, ruined burns. Keep thinking that people are staring at me. Checking out the after-effects of my stupidity this weekend. I'll bring sunscreen next time.
Received an eBay package today. Craftsmen flexible, racheting wrenches. Metric ones. An eight piece set. Like Aaron has at his shop. Spooky how I covert other men's tools. And I'm jonesing for a hand-held, battery-powered "autohammer." But then I'd need something to nail. (Wow, that sounds covertly dirty. Then again, I am talking about power tools.)
Had lunch with my father and my brother, Jason. First time in almost a year since we sat together in the EDR. Dad came back for "orientation" yesterday. He's "training" with Security, today. Odd to see him wear the same kind of uniform my mother used to wear. Dad got tired of hoisting groceries. So he made a successful return to the property. Employee of the year. Fire patrol during the rebuild. Bellman briefly after re-open. Then a short stint as an engineer before the second (or third?) round of layoffs caught him. But the old man doesn't give up. And he spent more time saying "Hey!" to old friends than actually training, today. Welcome back, Pop.
Otherwise, a productive day at the office. A quiet evening with the family. And now the house is sleeping.
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