In the1960s I drove truck in the hop harvest --late summer-- and tutored English Composition in the other seasons. I earned enough to keep fed, sheltered and, quite often, clothed. I'd drive past unpaved lanes off Calvine rd., some with their own signs --brush-painted on posts by owners. My favorite was "Helluva Road" --as much warning as sobriquet, full of dips and holes. It intersected Calvine across from the new Kingdom Hall --yes, even Jehovah's Witnesses have a sense of humor. However, when the High School got built, the name changed to "Kingsbridge". Go figure.
In 1972 I became a custom picture-framer and fine-arts restorer. I worked on J street in Sacramento. One day, a soft-spoken, sophisticated lady came to my shop with some antique prints she needed matted and I recommended rag-paper. She asked why and I told her 100% cotton rag mats were chemically inert and would not contaminate the artwork. No one else had told her that so she hired my service. I filled out the invoice and asked what street in Amador she lived on. She leaned in and whispered, "Pig Turd Alley".
It hadn't. Now I hear the sort of metallic creaks one makes rolling over in an old bed. Is it Brain telling me to get a proper post-subject or just me rolling over in an old bed?
In closing, Norma supplied all photos above while getting several other things done. So, for (y)our consideration, one more question: How is it women can attend gracefully to 5 different things in as many directions at once?