Tiff Hudson
@tiffhudson
Writer, maker, inactive pilot, weird skills accumulated over decades. Heavily vaccinated. Married to @megcrafted.bsky.social "I've been called 'Tiff' all my life. It's a long story."
Blocked this person, who apparently has never had to pay the maintenance bill for a mall roof or pay the monthly electrical bill for all the interior lighting that keeps the place from looking like a creepzone. Oh, and escalator maintenance bills!
I know this is old news already, but I just found this picture. And it's wonderful.
Whew! Today I did my least favorite home maintenance task: changing the HVAC filter in the shop. It's 12 feet above concrete. The ladder is tall enough, but I never like standing on a ladder and looking up. Camera angle and filter label courtesy of the 1966 Batman, my favorite show in second grade.
Feeling a bit surreal and meta today, so I thought I'd throw some Magritte in everyone's conceptual gears. (Image copyright is glaringly obvious, courtesy of enufstyle.com/generators/b...)
Me 50 years ago today. A group of Revolutionary War reenactors were having a picnic lunch during celebrations on July 4th. It was hot, and on a goofy whim, we marched some of our watermelon across the street to give to the police officers on duty. I carried the watermelon.
Weeds pulled, giant bush trimmed, weedeater trimmings blown down to the street. Now inside, recovering from the heat and dressed like Walter White (without the apron).
Chore Day I remember trimming trees with hand saws as a kid, and I *hated* it. But a pruning blade in a battery-powered reciprocating saw makes the job tolerable. (My shoulder also doesn't need ice afterward.) Also: Rehung a horse gate. Fixed a fence board. Changed an electrical outlet.
Tell me there's a good sale on Diet Pepsi without saying there's a good sale on Diet Pepsi.
Vegan Shock Warning: Do Not Scroll. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . A poem. Several simple principles can make a happy life. One of them is easy. Do not peck my wife. Seriously, ya hot-tempered dinosaur bastard. Do. Not. Peck. My. Wife. She holds the keys to Freezer Camp.
Then came 1992, the 500th anniversary of Columbus's journey. Because we know the truth about the man, lots of people didn't care. Now the American 250th is here, and I love history, but this anniversary is conflated with Trumpist jingoism and I just can't be bothered to give a shit. 2/2
Coming up on the 250th anniversary of July 4th, 1776, I remember how involved I was in the 200th. Dad was a genealogist and amateur historian. We were in costume. Ceremonies. Parades. Special sashes for descendants of Revolutionary soldiers. 1/2
Back when I was employed, I printed out a stack of these and kept them on my desk for people who interrupted me.
#FathersDay After my dad died in 2000, his favorite fire truck was nonfunctional, sitting in the city lot. Mom bought it from the city for a song and had it restored for parade use in his memory. Various artifacts resurfaced once word got out, including Dad's old helmet from the 1970s.