Pat's ancestor won a huge tract of land from my wife's father's ancestor in an alcohol fueled wild west poker game. That land became part of what is called "Kelly Ranch," a piece of geography that used to encompass much of North San Diego County. Both families still live in the area and in true old world fashion (and in keeping with the quasi-mythical antics of my wife's family) it was only a matter of time before they became related through marriage.
Pat has a little wood shop behind his place and crafts all sorts of cabinets and drawers and little things with the machinery and his hands. He is quiet with a quiet man's intelligent sense of humor.
5 comments:
i have an uncle pat and although he has never touched me in the places my bathing suit covers, that doesn't mean he doesn't want to. sounds kinds gross, but we are not blood related and i am from missouri.
I don't like it when you and The Octopus concurrently take the week off.
"Taking the week off" is not exactly how I would describe the character of my hiatus.
But the Polaroids will flow soon.
right before I left the sea voyager I logged on to the internet to check email. But I went to your blog first. This has become a habit. I check your blog before I check my email. Man, I am so fucking whipped.
I have noticed that the random letter code you have to type in order to make a comment has been increasingly longer. and often the letters are so smushed together they are illegible.
right now I'm looking at pbmtkcpwff
the "w" may well be v v and the b may well be l c.
I just think it's funny. that is all
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