There are two things you can bank on with regards to the man curmudgeoned before his time: the Colonel don't paint and the Colonel don't dance. He would rather take a prolonged beating than wrap his hands around a paintbrush. And, as much as the Colonel likes holding the comely and kind-hearted Miss Brenda close, tripping to the light fantastic ain't in the genes. That said, the pitter-patter you may be hearing in the background is the Colonel breaking into a secretive anticipatory happy dance. The Colonel's latest man toy will be delivered this week.
In a previous post the Colonel opined that, given the vast and renewable timber resources extant aboard Eegeebeegee, the capital of the Tallahatchie Free State--a government in opposition formed as much hand on wallet as tongue in cheek, and given that the Eegeebeegee Man Toy Storage and Sawdust Production Facility has a steadily increasing population of toolage designed to turn lumber into sawdust (with the occasional useful or ornamental by-product), the missing piece in the system is a machine for turning my timber into lumber.
In short, the Colonel needs -- okay, wants-- a saw mill. And, what the Colonel needs -- okay, wants -- (and for which the Colonel effectively and unashamedly begs the comely and kind-hearted Miss Brenda permission to stimulate the economy), the Colonel gets.
Enroute to the northern end of southern nowhere from a factory in Indiana, is a Wood-Mizer LT 15 personal saw mill, with which the Colonel will dramatically reduce the amount of cash spent regularly at local lumber yards to feed my sawdust production habit.
As is the Colonel's tradition with regard to large expensive man toys, he will assign an appropriate appellation to the newest addition, as soon as he can cobble together enough cognitive cells in the amorphous grey goo lying fallow in the recesses of his brain housing group to apply to the task of moniker making.
The Colonel invites the three of you, who regularly display a lack of anything better to do with your time than to submit yourselves to this drivel, to recommend an appropriate name for consideration by the Eegeebeegee Man Toy Naming Committee, chaired by the man curmudgeoned before his time, subject to final approval by the comely and kind-hearted Miss Brenda--chair of the Committee on Tallahatchie Free State Silliness Reduction.
The chosen entry will entitle the winner to an all-expense-paid day of operating the mill--an experience that the Colonel is certain occupies an elevated position on the bucket list of many of you.
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