Hydraulically Speaking

I’ve got a week done at the new job at the Opposite of Dog sandbox. It’s pretty good. The people are pretty cool, I get my own laptop, and, once I get my operators license, get to drive heavy machinery around.

It’s been hot, but my Under Armour has done it’s job. You still feel hot, but I don’t feel sweaty. There are a bunch of mechanics around that have quite a bit of ink, but they’re mechanics. My right arm is offensive by most people’s standards anyway so I’ll keep them covered.

I’ve been learning the ropes, how to get stuff done. They have way better training than when I started at my design job. The sandbox is 2500 acres, most of it just sound barrier for operating machines loudly.

I think this place will be OK for the next few years. (We’ll see how I feel in 18 months or so.)

My parents came down this past weekend. My dad and I ripped down an old shitty fence that was on the edge of my driveway. I wasn’t sure if it was my neighbors or mine, so I just asked him if I could get rid of it since it was old, ugly, and made it a bitch to shovel snow. He was fine with it, so we took it back to where it frames in his backyard. I replaced that portion with some new cedar dog-ear fence.

I don’t think I have enough pictures of Carter up in my office. Right now at 2:15 I miss him. I had pictures of him plastered all over my desk at the last job. I’ll have to hang a few up here.