Home improvements

But not mine—yet. Maybe after a few hundred paychecks, there will be some at my house, too, but for now I’ve been watching, with mild interest, the construction progress of my new neighbors, who bought the little 1947 Tudor Revival directly across the street a few months ago.

Home improvements

Home improvements

This modest little home, actually quite a bit larger than a first glance at the front facade would indicate, was formerly owned by another neighbor of mine, two doors down and just west of me. This was her childhood home and still the residence of her ninety-something-year-old mother at the time Hurricane Ike swept in back in September of 2008.
I ain't goin' nowhere!

I ain't goin' nowhere!

Apparently pulling a Granny Clampett and refusing all familial exhortations to leave, her mom weathered the storm in this home all by her lonesome. Sadly, shortly thereafter she succumbed to the stress of what must have been a horrific experience and passed away. A year later her daughter put the house on the market, and there it sat for over two long years in the stagnant housing market. Read the rest of this entry »

Huh?

Has it really been over two months since I published a post to this, my humble Galvez blog?

Peace

Peace

Indeed it has.

So what have I been up to that could possibly be more important that keeping this running diary timely and almost interesting?

Well, landing the perfect job, that’s all!

My new glorious employment is not located in dear old Galveston, nor even anywhere in the remote vicinity. Quite the contrary, alas. The great little company that hired me is situated in the far-flung (yet aptly-named) town of Sugar Land, Texas, a fair drive in an old truck but well worth the fuel spent and clutch action to get there. Read the rest of this entry »

To sleep, perchance to dream

What are the chances?

What are the chances?

To wake, to cottonball clouds in an azure sky.

Lovely.

Poetic.

Almost Shakespearian.

There’s a small chance for showers over the next several days, and oh, dear Hamlet, do we need them.

But I must remind myself that a 20% chance that it will rain is mathematically equivalent to an 80% chance that it won’t.

“Ay, there’s the rub.”