Hermits Rock

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While dressing this morning, I caught myself singing a wordless ditty, nonsense really, and stopped short: it was exactly the sort of thing my father sings to himself when he is dressing.

Update: I will probably never channel my father’s obsessions, even though I must admit that his new cannon (below) is sure pretty. Gazing upon it, I am reminded that Sarah Vowell once swore to use her father’s cannon to send his ashes rocketing off into the wilderness.



I love the home-made base for it.

As I understand the project, It’s going to be a carriage, complete with wheels.

He took the stainless steel from work.