BackwaterBlog

I’ve yet to bust a bottle of champagne (or Coors Lite, for that matter) across her sturdy corner.  Haven’t carried my bride across the threshold.  Haven’t built so much as a birdhouse in her.

But the possibilities are there.

She’s up.

There’s stuff in there.  That’s the tail end of the rig, sitting at the concrete apron, just to give you a sense of scale.  She’s big, indeedy.

And I’m painting the floor.  What, doesn’t everybody paint their floor?

It’s the Fourth of July, and I’m exercising my independence by painting a floor, in a tall metal building somewhere in the wilds of Carolina.

I imagine Jefferson, Hancock and the boys would be proud.  If freedom is important, having the freedom to do mundane things ought to be up there with speech and happiness and all the other rights.  Free to do what you want.

Happy 4th, y’all.