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Writing on the Wall

Friday - 02/12/2021 — It started back in 1997 or so. I got tired of my ugly bathroom wall. It was a rather discouraging time of my life when I felt I couldn’t stretch the budget to afford paint or wallpaper, but by golly I had plenty of pens and magic markers, so I began to write notes to myself right there where I could read them whenever I . . . uh . . . sat down.


Pretty soon, the area in front of the throne was filled up, so I expanded upwards and out to the sides. Then my sister came for a visit, and I invited her to write something as well.


After that, whenever anyone came to my house, I showed them the “powder room” with its little basket full of markers. The result was an exceptional collection gathered over the years. My son even wrote on the ceiling when he came from Alaska for a week or so.


When I sold the house in 2004, there was scarcely any room left to squeeze in an emoji, much less a quotation or a remark.


Then, in 2015, when I decided to remodel my current house (the one beside a stream on the other side of Hog Mountain), it made sense to invite all my family and friends to write on the wall before it was scheduled to be torn down.


Here are a couple of little sections of that (former) wall. I took pictures of the whole thing, but just these two will suffice to give you an idea of what it was like in those final two weeks before the dismantling crew came on the scene.




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