Real Update

The floor is now cleaner than it was when it was new thanks to a short-handled broom and some new pegboard hooks. The official log of things on the floor are as follows: Snowball, trash can, old radio cabinet, lawnmower. That is all of the old news

There is currently no plan in the works to add goods or services to the beautiful concrete floor. Any future items shall be hung on the pegboard or placed inside the old radio cabinet. That is all the current news. To sum up, there is no current news (there are also no current newses), this is an almost unnecessary paragraph.

Plans are in the works for certain future hung items as follows: task light, speakers, old radio cabinet (to the extent physics allow). I prefer to avoid details on these three topics as plans are very fluid at this time. That is all the future news, for now, but will be updated prior to occurring, or transferred to the paragraph above.

Gratuitous Updates

This is an update for its own sake. It serves to update itself on its own status. Its status is that it is updated.

Well-sprung Window Fascination

A couple of night photographs follow. Just when I am almost bored with this, but then I see pictures like these. It appears as though I am in the middle of nowhere, all alone, shining my light for all to see against a sea of darkness. However, the lonely reason the background appears so black in the central city is the brightness of the light. The Snowball headlights shine forward with all their might hitting only their intended target, already well lit by well placed light springs.

I have officially over analyzed the captured events of last evening. That overhead window would look like the berries with a little luminaire lighting the look-through. Well.

Postable Notes Underneath The Swinging Lights

Not reading The Onion is my new favorite past-time. It relaxes me, and reminds me that most news I read already sounds like The Onion, anyway. This way, I forget that I am not reading The Onion. I do not really miss it.

In other news, the workbench in the previous post folds away for additional storage and for subtracted benchage.

Furthermore, I hope to show some swell seasonally summer snapshots shortly showing sculptured césped. (I almost got all S's there, but almost only counts in spelling where people usually know what you mean anyway.) I never would have thought that grass would grow in my hard yard knowing what it looked like 1.3 years ago:
Hmm.

The new's readers read news reader's new's.

Trying to be liked, one likes to try liking. Making up for a lack of communication skills, this public diary attempts to give away the farm while maintaining the livestock. For example, here lie some neat pictures of the new workbench:

No News Never Negates New News

There is little to say, and so much time to say it. That time must be filled, preferably with silence. This is filling a lake with water. That is as deep as it gets here. We try to keep things light. We try to avoid the big questions. We do not ask questions that we do not know the answers to. We speak in second person plural to hide any individual ownership of a thought. The deeper we get, the less meaning the depth holds. Any discussion delegitimizes the weight of itself. The more I write, the less I mean. I seek airy discourse through philosophy or, more accurately, philosophization. I desire to strip the platitudes of their power. I have no desire to dance about architecture.

Pictures, platitudes, and pedestal putting will be post humorous.