A Box Of Forgotten Clothes

I like so called ugly shirts.  It reinforces the whole clothes do not make the man thing for me.  My mom called and told me to come and get this box or it was going to Goodwill, and I bet that is where a couple of them came from in the first place.  My girlfriend can't believe I wore some of these and has already said she will not be seen in public with me if I am wearing certain ones.  Disney On Ice traffic is just the worst, not really but sitting in it for even a minute was different.  Leaving the Hartford Civic Center after an event and not hearing the drunken wails of young men was a pleasant change.  Vendors outside on the sidewalk were selling knockoff Nemo dolls instead of cheap t-shirts of the band or team you saw.  These and many other differences are those things you just don't think about until you are there and experiencing them.  Today was a good day.  I always maintain they all are, but anytime I get to go through new and different scenarios is extra pleasing to the senses and the spongy fat stored up in my skull.  I almost went to bed forgetting to write today, but remembered at the last minute so insert excuse for the short entry here.  A woodpile, especially one stacked correctly with care makes me happy.  My parents have a wood burning stove, so I grew up with an ax and am on my second thumbnail.  Stacking is fun and kind of like a big custom puzzle.  Making kindling is my favorite.  Don't worry I know what I'm doing and lost that first thumbnail before ten years old.  There aren't that many outside smells better to me than smoke coming from a chimney.  Winter is by far my least favorite season but without it summer wouldn't feel so good.  Here in New England summer also stood for freedom when you were a kid.  No school!  You were free to sleep in if you wanted but I don't remember ever doing that.  The days seemed endless, and even when the sun went down it stayed light enough to play basketball for another hour and you could fish until you couldn't see to tie the knot.  I changed lures so much when I was younger, it was a way to express your impatience in the activity that didn't have much room for it.  I was very lucky and had a pond that was a five minute walk from my driveway.  It wasn't much to look at but it was mine, at least it felt like it.  Ok, enough about my obsession with fishing, it is time to hit the hay.  I promise to write a longer entry in the morning.