Paint Store

Two days ago we went out shopping at 12:30, finding Christmas Presents for some of our family members. It was cold and early in the morning in a way on a Saturday Morning, and as we got out of our car we were crowded by dough nut sellers. "You want a doughnut?" "Only $7!" "2 of 'em for $10!" "Come on, please!" Most people said they might get one on the way out, and that's what we did too. They were kids, a high school baseball team that was a little annoying. Then their was the skinniest Santa I've ever seen, a high schooler with a fake beard that was coming down, cheap costume and not even having a fake fat stomach. He was as thin as a pencil. Well, maybe not THAT thin, but he wasn't chubby, not even middle. Thin. Anyway, we went inside, and got cards for people and presents for others as I found a book section. I didn't get anything in it though.

I can't really tell you anything else. After going out, we put some things in the car, hiding the cards from each other. I started both A Christmas Carol and a left behind book, reading more of the left behind book. We drove off, came home, and I learned Dad was leaving to go to the paint store and clean up around with Marcos. He got a wheelbarrow full of tools like a blower, axe, and weed cutter into the red truck Dad has. Then Dad and I got into the silver van, it having junk all in it. It's hard to open too. We drove to the paint store, Auto Color. From parking we got the wheel barrow out, then taking it past the movable barbed wired gate into a small courtyard with big trucks that are there and rusty trailers. Through an always open little gate you can get to Farm House in the City, an art place we are renting to a lady named Robin. We opened up the gate, taking the van in also. Marcos got a ladder and gave me a huge fat shovel from one of the white trucks that had tools on the side of it. It was from Corbitt, a nice tree cutting guy who houses his truck there. I was told to do what I had to do with it, and then after that to put it back. Dad told me to get the wheelbarrow by all the leaves, and then to pick up some with the shovel, placing them in the wheelbarrow. It was to be in a few parking places. Then when it was filled I was to go back into the courtyard in the back where some tarps and broken limbs were, then to dump it. I set to work. I shoveled, having back-breaking work, putting it in the wheelbarrow. Most of the leaves were wet and hard to pick up, sticking together by roots and black dirt beneath them. Then after filling it up, I would roll it over uneasy terrain, having the wheel in front of me, going forward. After that I would dump it out, but because of so much in it, I would then have to dump it right and left 'til it was all out. It was hard to balance it, and do all the other parts.

Crouch and pick up, pick up, move shovel in to get more leaves, put in wheelbarrow, pick up, wheelbarrow, pick up, wheelbarrow, sigh, ache, hurt and strain, pick up, get into groves and pull roots apart, wheelbarrow over uneasily while it's windy, the wind making the leaves go away. Wheel on over and dump out right, then left, and make sure everything is out by looking out at it. Wheel back, set up again, repeat process. Sure it was boring, but it was nothing compared to Marcos standing on the roof of the building, blowing leaves off and getting so dirty. He's the one who had the hard work. After doing that process for a while Dad told me to empty out the van, me handing stuff to him out the back. Hoses, pictures, cables, a book, so many different things in that van. Empty water coolers, boxes, and a little sculpture called the Alabama Turd, a brown chunk of something with glued on eyes, fuzzy yellow arms and legs, and a wooden platform beneath it. It was a present to Dad. A weird present. We gave it to someone as a present too, the dumpster. I hope he liked it. After cleaning it out we put some of the stuff through a small metal side door into the paint store, avoiding the front entrance. By that is a large garage door that goes up when we want to take cars out that are in there. I went back to doing the leave thing after, but the roots were connected to the leaves and held strong. With a hoe, I ripped apart those roots with difficulty, and Dad blew it away. Eventually it got done. We waited for Marcos to finish blowing stuff around on the roof, going inside and seeing Corbitt, him presenting to us in the conference room a duck shooting gun. Randy Brannon came over again, and I jokingly said to him, "Long time no see, Mr Brannon!" although I had seen him yesterday. At that time I started reading Left Behind again, asking Dad if we could go to a restaurant called Greenwood's across the street, which I had never been to but was told was good. We ended up going home in the 300 Chrysler Dad had in the Paint Store, after opening the big door and taking cars out to let it move, uncovering yellow tarps. Corbitt drove the van, and then Dad took him back to get his car. We didn't go to Greenwood's, just ate soup and relaxed for the rest of the night. Sure, it wasn't the best day, but, I did get some exercise running around and shoveling leaves. The following day though, would be one to surely remember.

King Solomon ruled with a ruler, and oh did he rule,

Andrew.