tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14474631.post3901616353696948989..comments2023-10-19T05:40:59.162-04:00Comments on Sippican Cottage: Persuade ItSippicanCottagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14940797380578921776noreply@blogger.comBlogger4125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14474631.post-69866298884358040132006-11-18T20:55:00.000-05:002006-11-18T20:55:00.000-05:00Sisyphi?Sisyphi?Ruth Anne Adamshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/01936054116421006847noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14474631.post-67091946504553798372006-11-18T17:51:00.000-05:002006-11-18T17:51:00.000-05:00aj- The uncle this is written about was a mason fo...aj- The uncle this is written about was a mason for most of his life. I worked for him for a little while. He could wear out a phalanx of Sisyphuses. Needless to say, he wore me out, too. But what does not kill us makes us stronger, is it not so? <br /><br />Mr Duff and my Uncle think so.<br /><br />Editor T.- Hello to your father and you. Thank you. <br /><br />And now I have a message just for your father:<br />Your son has fallen in with bad company.SippicanCottagehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14940797380578921776noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14474631.post-90732249449392413402006-11-18T16:54:00.000-05:002006-11-18T16:54:00.000-05:00Still reading - still enjoying.
My Dad visited t...Still reading - still enjoying. <br /><br />My Dad visited today and I showed him the lumber yard essay (he used to teach woodwork at high school, and has done joinery - including some fine furniture, and a superb garden hut - all his adult life). Loves wood, hoards nice salvaged pieces. <br /><br />He read it slowly and carefully, top to bottom, liked it - saw the catalog, thought your furniture looked beautifully made. Praise indeed!Editor Theoristhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05523719768353591396noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14474631.post-76064870296202890362006-11-18T15:37:00.000-05:002006-11-18T15:37:00.000-05:00Great story and reminds me of when I worked for a ...Great story and reminds me of when I worked for a bricklayer in college. I was shoveling cement into a pan on a ledge about seven feet up. I could barely reach it and I told the other laborer on the ledge to make sure it did not tip over back onto me. But he didn't and it did. Struck me right in the back of the neck, almost knocked me over. I felt my neck and couldn't feel that bone that normally protrudes from the back of one's neck. <br /><br />The boss, Mr. Duff, a tough old bricklayer had some advice. Let's go to lunch, he said. So we did.I'm Full of Souphttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00241724007440718575noreply@blogger.com