"Oh, Jeb, what does pride got to do with guns? "

It has never troubled me too much that I can't write, nor have I been bothered by it.
The thing I hate the most is that when I level or plumb a wall I can't pin the plates in straight.
It could be the house
but usually I know it is just me, out by 5 or 6/8ths.
It's tough like that. It's enough to make me crazy and sometimes I just follow the grain of the 2x4 from factory end to my cut, just to focus.
Foundations and frames are funny like that, frustrating but necessary.
Fucking up is not really an option.

I thought about my friends tonight. My lovers and those with whom I share love.
I think it was about 8 p.m. when I packed in the Hilti. Nail guns are a challenge, for me.
But nailing, it's so real and instant with them.
A gentle push and it is in, deep. Although the recoil, man, is something to deal with.

I was drunk this past weekend and didn't do much but when I took that tool-belt this morning, strapped it on and went to work, well, there is no better feeling. The weight of my hammer, offset by the weight of my tape, knife and some duplex nails, shit, it just feels perfect. Not to mention that I could crack a walnut between my biceps; it feels good. I feel like a man.

We did some framing and then took a break.
I told my older brother about this site, to read the things I write here.
He said nothing.
I cared not, too. It just felt good to share these thoughts.
And I fear not the judgment of others; regarding carpentry or life.
I hit nails straight, I walk the same.

I love you.

I took this picture of The Queen of Mexico for you.

Goodnight.

-Sid Heart
xoxoxoxoxo