You may want to pick up some shoulder-launched missiles. The Pentagon is about to fall in the ocean.All right, it’s a hexagon, which is less funny, and it was clearly crafted with some love.
I’ll bet it has a better view than the real Pentagon.
Summer is usually the less-eroding time, and this has been mostly true except for in a few places. There’s the last of the Yellow Compound at the end of Spruce Street:
This place, which I will unimaginatively call the Yellow and Brown Compound:
And, of course, the hard-luck A-frame.
While these serve as an ominous reminder to never forget, the glory of summer is distracting. It’s trendy now to post lists of the things you’re grateful for. Here is mine:
I haven’t been able to get to the beach much, so my neighbor Ray has been cutting my grass for cash and Bud Lite. This has been a rewarding investment.
I am delighted and entertained by Washaway Beach and its fascinating curiosities.
I’m thankful for our beautiful Northwest king salmon cooked on the fire, smoked with leaves and branches from my alder trees, served with a sweet corn summer salad.
And then there are the guys, the best boys, my goodfellas, always looking out for me.
I’m especially grateful for my place here, my piece of this, for a little more time here, for as long as I’m allowed. I guess I’m just a lucky so and so.