Prime railroading time

Last night was our neighbourhood’s annual Progressive Party.  Yeah, I did wonder just what kind of neighbourhood we’d moved into when we got the invitation shortly after moving in 14 years ago.  It turns out, there is no Ice Storm key swapping on the street as far as I’m aware, but rather it’s a pot luck that migrates from house to house.

My wife said it would take her fifteen more minutes to get ready, and I was all set.  So, I popped downstairs, rattled a can of Wargames Workshop primer and primed the hinges.  I snapped and uploaded the photo as well.  No Pulitzer for that one!

It’s not the hours, but the minutes…

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