It's all About Decoration

It's all about Decoration

Well I suppose I could write about all them things goin' on in the world an' lament about all the injustices bein' wrought on humanity. But what's the point o' that? It's all over the news an' social media anyways. Besides, I don't agree with any o' them yahoos anyhow. Naw, I'd rather write about somethin' far more important to the men of this world: an' that's women's perception o' things. The degree of importance is directly proportionate to what kind o' misery you wanna find yerself in for eternity.

See, I'm the sort that's got to keep busy. The day usually starts on my computer at about five a.m., then on to my picture puzzle when I get bored an' so on. But in the mean time my hands get fidgety so I gotta work on somethin to make them happy too. I used to love wood workin' but don't have much chance to do that nomore.

The other day I just had a yen to make somethin' - maybe another walkin' cane. I've made a few o' them before an' I just like makin' them. So I glued some pieces o' white maple together an started carvin'. It was a comfortable little handle to fit a lady's hand but didn't look like much because o' the glue joints. So I painted it - bright red along with the brown stained stem. Well that was apparently a big mistake! I should'a painted it all black. That, along with the fact that it was downright ugly, and also that it wasn't all black - I considered throwin' the whole thing out.

But then I had an idea. I went down to the dollar store an' bought some o' them glue on rhinestone stickers. Havin' glued one on over the screw holdin' the red handle down, I now had a "diamond cane".

"Oh," says the Missus, "Let me see that!"

Suddenly this old piece of no class "junk" that wasn't painted black had a new personality. It fit nicely in the hand an' that "diamond" makes it just perfect. "I could use that if I ever needed a cane" says the Missus. "Put it up with the other ones."

Imagine holdin' a diamond worth a whole bunch o' karats right in the palm o' your hand - even if it's a fake piece o' glass. Well I don't know about that. What I do know about is that I pulled the proverbial rabbit outta the hat without havin' to paint the thing black or throw it out. At least that's how it seems to me from up here on the top shelf.

Just sayin'.