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My mom, bless her, made terrible
cheese sandwiches--just one square American between
two slices of white. Maybe we were poor. Today Steve
and I wrangled 2 16' 2x12s into an attic, first by
tilting out a lower window, then hefting overhead
between exposed ceiling joists. They just barely
fit. Once upstairs, we made a sandwich with thin
plywood strips between the thick planks, glued and
nailed, strapped in place, a beam to replace the
interior wall that previously held up the ceiling.
It was satisfying.
For lunch we went to Ezell's Fried Chicken, 3-piece
spicy dark meat lunch combo with corn and bean
sides, ate outside on a public bench surrounded by
curious crows we fed scraps. They would only come so
close, but I'm hopeful we'll become friends.
Remarkable creatures, they and the rats will outlast
us all.
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