The Homestead Act

Comfort

I paid my mortgage off today, we did a little ceremony, Peggy and I. 

Felt a little strange because I bought the house with Rose, but Rose left because she wanted to, sick of me, sick of the little Craftsman she picked out herself while I was doing mandatory sevens at Duncan.

Looked around the place. Needs some work in places where I did work because it needed some work.

My back is too creaky to do much now.

Peggy understands.

Thought about Marcus Waters I did, when we paid this ol’ domicile off.

Everyone on 2nd Shift at Duncan, Plant 4, we thought Marcus had a brain conveyor that wasn’t tracking.

The day Tommy Duncan told us we were going to molded plastic and getting rid of the wood pallets, I thought I might have my hands on the makings of a wicked nice tree fort for Leo, Jr.

But Tommy, frugal Scottish blood of his, said they might have use for the pallets one day.

OK, Tommy, whatever you say, I thought, still thinking of helping myself to a couple.

Peggy kissed me just now, and I can hear the wheezin’. Two packs a day is catching up to her, even though she’s down to about 3 smokes a day and some gum. The stairs are gettin’ harder on her.

Might have to move the bedroom downstairs to where the TV room is. I dunno.

Anyway, we got some OT, just loading forks and dumpin’ pallets out in the crotch of the triangle at the end of Duncan Gasket and Seal’s property.

Ain’t like it was gonna be an eyesore. 

If you never been to Warren, Michigan, some parts are nothing but crisscrossed train tracks and warehouses where every third pane of glass is busted, and a whole lotta nothing around it.

There’s cement back in the Duncan triangle, and some power drops, and I guess it used to bustle pretty good back there when they used to load the parts direct on the train.