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Every once in a while I forget I am gay and I try working with power tools. There is a set of wind chimes I am quite fond of I hung on a mesquite branch some years ago. The chimes are in need of an update but I can’t get them off the tree as the branch has grown so big the metal ring holding up the chimes is firmly embedded into the branch. Mesquite is one nasty wood that doesn’t succumb to pruning shearers or (I later discovered) electric chainsaw. As mentioned in the exordium, this may be operation error. Other factors included allergies from hell and general fatigue of housecleaning. I’ve given up for now. Remembering who I am, I gathered up some rocks and went indoors (blessed AC !) and turned to crafts. My first attempt at painting rocks was satisfactory:

Behold the sacred stones of yellow and blue!

I asked Someone the art critic what he thought of my exhibit. His response was to wonder if we will get a nasty letter from the HOA about being in violation of some sort of bylaw. I will write back that this is my emotional support rock.* and it cannot be removed. I am not worried about the HOA (being used to bodily threats from The Board of Directors Here at Spo-Reflections) but someone stealing it out of spite. This is one reason why I did it in basic yellow. If pinched, I can paint another one, and better too. Maybe it will become a sort of game. However, the back up rock will be painted and finished with a clear wash of ghost pepper solution.

The aquamarine rock went back into the garage, safe from angry HOA-habitu├ęs and basalt bandits. This one is a working rock viz. a doorstop to prop open the door going into the back yard where dwell the rubbish bins. I open the door with trash and recyclables in hand, and I kick the (now blue) stone into place. I am curious to see if continuous kicking takes off the blue color. Time will tell.

I am already looking to the future full of of new and exciting rock art, replete with multiple colors, symbols etc. I plan to write nasty curses on the rocks that go in front if stone-stealing shenanigans commence.

*Thanks to a note from my psychiatrist (myself) pet rocks are now emotional support rocks. This will allow me to carry them into public buildings and onto planes.

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