Photo By John Hoff So I was gone a couple of days. My rusty 1988 Celebrity was becoming too well known in North Minneapolis, and twice had tires slashed...
So I traveled some distance to the place where I have my rural roots, and recharged my mental batteries by being with my family. One of my relatives arranged a trade of vehicles, and did a lot of work to get the replacement vehicle ready: pulled the "good" battery out of my Celebrity to use it in the van, replaced headlight bulbs, put on a new tire--actually eating the cost--yanked out the two back seats, secured some plastic doo-hicky on the passenger seat, and more stuff I probably forgot.
Part of the proceeds for this transaction came from the money I received for that smashed passenger side window. Plus my relative will be enjoying those two "brand new" tires. Thanks, crack heads.
While we were working, one of the laying hens kept jumping into the van to peck at gravel and (I suspect) animal cracker crumbs. I'd chase it away, but it would just keep coming back. And that's when I had an idea. More in a future post.
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