I did this:
Vancouver Police Museum Programmer Job Posting
R U Fucking Kidding Me: the Facebook Song (this is seriously, SERIOUSLY awesome)
And then I pre-posted for the next three days, and then I learned about email newsletter software code tracking.
And I was going to do a post based on this:
because I had an uncle whose name was, in fact, Clifford Smith, and who was, in fact, a horse logger. That’s not a guy who cuts down horses to make logs out of them (there’d be hardly any money in that) it’s a guy who cuts down trees to make logs out of them and has his horses drag the logs to the sawmill. Uncle Clifford had about 400 acres and he farmed it for 50 years and it was pretty much solidly forested the whole time, and yet he earned a good living, thanks to the climate and geography and whims of the gods which had blessed his land with an abundance of trees which, when turned into logs, turned into more expensive logs than other trees: trees like Black Walnut.
He’d hitch up his horses (Suffolk Punch, I think; they were quite small for draft horses) when he got an order for a certain kind of wood, and he’d go out and cut down the tree and hitch the horses to it and pull it back and there you go, a month’s worth of groceries paid for.
But because I don’t have time, I’m not going to tell you about Uncle Clifford now.
raincoaster 