This is my pallet flag. I plan on touching up the bottom (where the wood can still be seen) and attach some hooks to it. I plan on hanging this in my kitchenette when my construction is done.
Jill
5/17/12
Friday, May 17, 2013
A taste of Americana.
This is my pallet flag. I plan on touching up the bottom (where the wood can still be seen) and attach some hooks to it. I plan on hanging this in my kitchenette when my construction is done.
Jill
5/17/12
Saturday, March 09, 2013
Friday, March 08, 2013
Saturday, January 26, 2013
Tuesday, January 15, 2013
MOTHER NATURE SERVES NO FLAG
Living in the 043' is usually easy on the eyes. I live directly across the street from the post office. This post office has been a point of frustration since I moved here. For years I listened to both my parents bitch about the post office patrons who like to park all over our sidewalks and block the 2 lane street, which is as busy as the Indianapolis 500 and at times traffic moves faster, like double the 25MPH speed limit. When I inherited this suburban Queendome of mine, I then began to bitch about the obnoxious post office patrons who are such a brazen folk nowadays, they will just park in an empty driveway and block those of us who do not work during the day from entering or exiting our own driveways. I have cussed out a bunch of people who have parked in my and my neighbors' driveways and on our sidewalks. I have threatened them with car damage. And they have nerve to get an attitude, like they own this palace and its land or something.
So my point of frustration with this lackluster post office lately has been how they have totally disrespected the American flag. This flag was left out overnight during a particularly windy storm. As mother nature serves no flag, she tore and tattered that honored cloth and then wrapped it taut around the powerline. Who's in charge of the '043 but some lazy do-nuthins and that elderly sight for sore eyes that licks her fingers to separate the bills she's handed. Then she uses those spit laden fingers of her to make you change. Ok, bitch, why don't you just tongue kiss me or spit in my hands. Liek I want your saliva in my purse, wallet, etc... That is how the flu and other fun bacteria and viruses spread. She doesn't like hearing, 'don't spit on my money order or my change' either. She is of the generation that wipes back to front and drank unpasteurized milk too.
Then the flag, again battered by mother nature, unbound it from the power lines. I mentioned this to the post office guy who was working for the spitter. "Well, I don't have a ladder and I can't get up there to take it down. It's caught on the pole and won't lower. " No maintenance at this government run establishment. Not one on call guy that can service this type of calamity? Nope.
This back story brings me to this morning. I arrived on my street on my way home from work and I spotted the stars and stripes on the road in a heap. Cars were driving over our national flag, which is like kicking a battered woman when she's down. Car after car. What the hell? I could picture my dear dead grandfather rolling over in his grave. Had he been alive, he'd have had another coronary. I parked and retrieved the flag from the street and folded it over the railing at the post office.
I'm wondering how long it will take to replace it?
Jill
1/15/13
So my point of frustration with this lackluster post office lately has been how they have totally disrespected the American flag. This flag was left out overnight during a particularly windy storm. As mother nature serves no flag, she tore and tattered that honored cloth and then wrapped it taut around the powerline. Who's in charge of the '043 but some lazy do-nuthins and that elderly sight for sore eyes that licks her fingers to separate the bills she's handed. Then she uses those spit laden fingers of her to make you change. Ok, bitch, why don't you just tongue kiss me or spit in my hands. Liek I want your saliva in my purse, wallet, etc... That is how the flu and other fun bacteria and viruses spread. She doesn't like hearing, 'don't spit on my money order or my change' either. She is of the generation that wipes back to front and drank unpasteurized milk too.
Then the flag, again battered by mother nature, unbound it from the power lines. I mentioned this to the post office guy who was working for the spitter. "Well, I don't have a ladder and I can't get up there to take it down. It's caught on the pole and won't lower. " No maintenance at this government run establishment. Not one on call guy that can service this type of calamity? Nope.
This back story brings me to this morning. I arrived on my street on my way home from work and I spotted the stars and stripes on the road in a heap. Cars were driving over our national flag, which is like kicking a battered woman when she's down. Car after car. What the hell? I could picture my dear dead grandfather rolling over in his grave. Had he been alive, he'd have had another coronary. I parked and retrieved the flag from the street and folded it over the railing at the post office.
I'm wondering how long it will take to replace it?
Jill
1/15/13
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