My daughter’s first recognizable picture was an apple.  She was perhaps three, and at the time she was already a prolific artist, producing mostly pages of coloured straight, parallel lines.  But this day, I was working on the endless basement reno, and she came down and presented me with a beautiful red apple with a green leaf.  “Oh, what a wonderful apple!” I exclaimed.  She beamed and went upstairs to produce more, reappearing a few minutes later with a sheet of parallel lines.  “Lovely!” I exclaimed, “What is it?”  She looked at me with the look that I hadn’t expected her to perfect for at least another ten years, the look that says “Oh, Daddy, you are so dense!” and she explained, “It’s lines.”

What did Andrew and I (the other member of the posse being in Nevada) get up to last night?  Lines.  Two roughly parallel lines.


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Suspending Disbelief

Andrew and I met in the garage again last night. The garage has been pretty full of layout for the past week, and soon the layout is going to be the sort of thing that I don’t want to find bikes leaning against. Time to get it out of the way! So, up it went, next to the ceiling.

Ceiling layout
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