The view from the window is always changing with bees, bumblebees, birds, and squirrels. Praying mantis, cats, and the mail carrier gaze in at me as I type away. A lunatic bag man is walking by screaming with the nihilistic dogs barking. I am almost hidden from the world. My cave has purple flowers and green vines which create an arbor from a tree before the opening of its mystery. My dream room must have a big window.
My tabletop is large and roomy. Papers, bills, cats, and coffee have room to stretch. Watercolor, Sharpie black pen, and manifesto all shine with exuberance. Moments of intensity or laughter. Everything accessible is here for my creative impulse. My dream room will have a big roomy table.
My often-wordy crystal will be on my table. Surrounded by technologies that are as foreign to me as my own involuntary body is. It works as an oracle, teacher, and advisor. A continuous flow of thought waves that align into a device that is a friend who masks my handicaps. A world that reflects back to me of an unknown voice that seems to be known as mine. The computer screen is my blank canvas, my place of improvisation, expression, and bliss.
Yes, a computer will sit on my roomy table in my dream room with a view!!
I count my blessings because I have my dream room right now!! I am in the process of learning HTML, making this experience ever more remarkable. I like it!
I think Mick Jagger would have done a great impression of Alex from A Clockwork Orange…
Yin & Yang pendant from Darrel and John modeled by Flash the cat.
Santa Cruz California has beaches for surfing and a Boardwalk to walk on the wild side. The University of Santa Cruz sits on a hill above this once hippie and murder capital of central California. A beach town where beach meets music at the Catalyst Club. Pubs, Donut-shops and pizza parlors mark their territory too.
!991, you might find us early mornings at Farrell’s Donuts and in the evening, we hang at the seedy pub, known to the locals, as the Poet and Patriot.
Powering down a Greece lightning, made up of Guinness and Anchor Steam, got the night off for a rogue conversation with the local Thunderbird or a game of cheating darts. Bob and Zachery made the time enjoyable and even broke up fights… the successful job of the best of the best toxicologists!!
Darrel and John were big men. The chairs they sat in at the counter every morning, showed the wear and tear below. The owner of Farrell’s Donuts told John that he was going to make them pay for it. Darrel had a beard and long hair while John, his younger brother, just had long hair. They were misfits, rebels and they liked us and often they would service up our coffee and say,
“Service with a smile;”
Taking waitress Linda’s job not too seriously. They were characters. Darrel and John had a big pickup truck with a camper. They collected stuff from the local dump, ya know the stuff nice people throw away and these two recycled it. They were reformed hippies but that didn’t make any difference. When we moved into our little one-bedroom home they supplied us with some good furniture. One of the big chairs we kept with us for eighteen years.
After we got our new home, all fixed up we invited Darrel and John over for dinner of BBQ steak and home-made chili. We lounged like Romans and Darrel’s belly was so round that when he sat down, he put the chili bowl right on top of his belly. He ate his chili down.
Once in the early morning in Farrell’s Donuts parking lot I saw Darrel sleeping in his truck. So slowly I sneaked up to him. I reached my hand slowly to tickle his beard when he gripped my hand. I screamed. He looked at me and yelled,
“Don’t ever sneak up on a man sleeping in his truck. I might have broken your hand clean off!”
Babies of 1992 and Alumni . Santa Cruz Sentinel, May 30 1992
Our first baby was born in Santa Cruz. Darrel and John surprised us and entered the picture in the local newspaper. Now that is dear friendship.
When Darrel passed away from a massive heart attack he was just in his forties. He was cremated and at his demise party they put his ashes next to a picture of him, as big and as mighty as the tree in their yard. Many of his friends showed up that day.
They were drinking and smoking all sorts of funny things. Darrel was one of those kinds of dudes that warms your heart just thinking of him.
It doesn’t seem like 31 years ago when Santa Cruz was our home, a town of characters and friends.
You walk into your home to find a couple you don’t know sitting in your living room, eating a slice of cake. Tell us what happens next…
I listened to and knew the song that was playing in the room. There before me were two men, one of the men reminded me of Timothy Leary. Between them on a small wooden table was a cake. It was a large white cake with colorful candies on top that slowly changed into a round bowl filled with many-colored candies, no wait… pills… red, blue, yellow, and black.
I had walked into a psychedelics party. Then one of the men said,
“Hello there Holly, I see you are coming back to us, honey!”
“Yes” said Timothy. “It seems you were lost somewhere other than here in this room.”
The two men still seemed strange to me. I told them I did not want any more of the pill candy. They looked at each other.
“You have had enough sister!”
“We opened up some crazy stuff from yon unconscious and wrote it all down for you in this funny looking red book you brought us, sweetie!”
“You did, why?”
“Ah look at that? Maybe a cup of tea will bring you back to us!!”
The little red book was half the size of a paperback book that you see at most libraries. I put it to my nose, and it smelled like earth, rain and I could not put a name to the other smell. I opened the book, and it was filled with images, words, and poems. One of the images was of a floating woman. Her hands were raised up and she was doing cartwheels through space. I then became that woman. I was flying over the eye of a tornado and said to myself,
“It is so peaceful up here. I know it is not the same down there.”
Someone grabbed my hand. I was sipping on some warm tea. I grasped the teacup in my hands. I drank it all down. The sugar on the bottom was delicious, good.
The two men smiled at me, while one said,
“Holly, it is all ok. Everything is just fine!!”
“Hello there… it is good seeing you two again!”
If you don’t know the song, If you can’t put the words to the tune, Tell the rhyme from the reason, What should it matter To the fool or the dreamer?
“Nothing in the world is more dangerous than sincere ignorance and conscientious stupidity.”
-Martin Luther King, Jr.
This is not an original ranting but I am pissed and I am going to do it anyway!!
There she was driving down Topanga Blvd in the fog. The traffic was crazy heavy and car lights were on. I watched as she looked up every few seconds and looked down for more than a few seconds. On general she was spending more time looking down then up, while driving in the fog in crazy heavy traffic.
I thought all the time, when driving, that if I had not been looking up, a mere second, I might have had a major accident. Driving in the fog in Californian is a fucking rare thing…. I mean as rare as roast beef with red juices flowing!!
I was digging her V.W. Bug too… it was purple, and her long dark hair was trimmed at the end with the same color as her car. How cool is that!? I want a black V.W. Bug with purple anarchy flowers and two green praying mantises, and I will do my hair black, purple, and green. One thing I will never do is text and drive. It is the stupidest thing I see people doing these days.
It pisses me off. Not only is she risking her life, and the life of everyone around her; including cats, dogs, possums, raccoons, goats, and little children with balls, that impressive V.W. of hers will be smashed up. I honked at her. She looked over and I said,
“Don’t text and drive honey!
“What?”
She said smiling. “I said don’t text and drive,” as I took my finger and rolled it around my ear…the crazy sign.
She got the picture ’cause she reacted with a roll-eye and a little jerk. I woke her up for a bright brief second as she cruised; texting and looking downwards at a horse powered machine weighing some 1900 lbs. I fucking hope so!!
“And when at last you find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul, you stop in shock at the words you utter— they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless and feeble from being kept in the small cramped dark inside you so long.”
― Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath
As a woman who is now projecting my writings and a housewife lost in the world of perpetual beauty that always keeps that erection up, I see the war a coming. Don’t you realize that we humans can never find peace in the world outside! It is an impossibility and false assumption that all peace punks and Greenpeace people hold so dear. I laugh…
“Ha Ha!!”
Here I write on my blogging soap box to all that will hear me. On this little planet we are on, she is a warrior planet, and I dare say she pisses off all the other planets as well as our solar system for that matter.
“Ha Ha!”
The fucking war machine wages on. From one generation to the next. Whacking-off to the corporate profits of Its glorified power.
“Ha, Ha I say…Ha Ha!!”
As the tides turn, as the seasons come and go, and we are born and die; the polarity of life is in constant conflict and this motivates us all.
“Ha, Ha, Ha!”
The earth is a princess warrior, and she isn’t going to stop ever!
I hate this, I reject this…but I have learned to know it as truth…the only real peace is inside each of us.
To find peace on this planet is impossible, but only when we seek it within can we know it as the bombs blast off around us!
And Sylvia Plath reflectively knew the place as,
“In the small, cramped dark inside you.”
Yelling from the crowd, maybe 20 drunks.
“Get of the fuckin’soap- box, ha ha ha…”
This is dedicated to the young gal who cut me off on the road this morning, a slicer, … irritation is the way to hallelujah glorious peace… so get mad and enjoy the ride!!
Hear the pull a sucking sound? Feel the pull inward, a crazy fruitful feeling. This is a time of being pulled in. Blame it on the solar system. A time to get pregnant, a time to consider those feelings you have been ignoring. We are being seduced by forces stronger than we will ever know!!
The gibbous waning moon is in Scorpius today, February 24, and this is causing a really unbelievable maximizing sucking action. WOW! The moon is disrobing and is about to jump into the ocean of Neptune. A riptide pulls her in towards a new moon, towards Pisces on March 1st and the 2nd. Venus and Pluto are only enjoying this love affair with our unconscious mind…a good show!!
The sun comes in to break up the party and the moon steps out of her Lilith encounter. March and Spring are on the way after this inward journey.
So, prepare yourselves. If not, I suggest a lot of Maker’s Mark to kill the pain because this dame is going to ask you who you are, and if you don’t tell her, she will tell you, herself…up close too…pretty good work for a pushy dame!!
“There are but two roads that lead to an important goal and to the doing of wonderful things: strength and perseverance. Strength is the lot of but a few privileged men; but austere perseverance, harsh and continuous, may be employed by the smallest of us and rarely fails of its purpose, for its silent power grows irresistibly greater with time.”
― Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust: First Part
Since reading his biography years ago, Nikola Tesla means more to me than the alternating currents that his insight, intuition, and imagination brought to humanity. He had a strange kind of ambition that was not based on personal gain or money.
He felt the true need to help humanity. I see him as a glimpse into our human future, if it is not too late, where humanity can work tighter together with nature creating with his kind of passion; To create incredible things based on insight, intuition, and imagination.
Tesla’s mother was also a creative person like her son; his father was a Serbian orthodox priest. He grew up in the village of Smiljan, Austrian Empire.
He grew up close to nature where clear streams and a nearby mountain broke out with electrical storms, both teaching Nikola about the flow of nature. The manifestation of all that is; is part of us, nature, and the cosmos. Nikola memorized Goethe’s Faust forward and backwards. He used quotes from Faust as a form of meditation to block out the sometimes-overwhelming sensitivity he had to the noises of life.
“Everything transitory is but an image.”
~ Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust: First Part
With all that Tesla had to offer humanity he fell short of his dreams due to the lack of understanding in the times when he was born. Racing forward to create via the means of power and money was not Tesla’s dream.
He died a lonely man if not for a pigeon. The point being is he did what he did for love. He worked by and for it. He broke both legs. Symbolically he did this for us and the earth.
Tesla’s strange and mysterious life is based on integrity. If I have learned anything from this great man, I have learned this, and I base my life on it; everything I do is based on love, integrity and not power or money.
To create something based on love is like giving birth to a child. It is insight, intuition and imagination manifested and it is intrinsically physical too.
Having this as a basis for life one cannot walk the ambitious path only trying to get somewhere for fame or fortune. Instead, one might be asking why and for what? It is not what Tesla has left us more valuable as the why and for what?
Does he not answer that for us? The importance of living life and what may be in the way?
This is a riddle that Nikola has helped me solve! It may not be profitable, glorious, or popular, but walking the motif of love based on insight, intuition, and imagination…makes the breaking of legs all worthwhile in the difficulties of life.
A flower in my hand picture taken by my mother… RIP.
Everything but the kitchen sink, Sister Sallie and I use to get together and make egg sandwiches, coffee and talk.
Mom used to hum in the kitchen, in the bathroom dad sang his little jazz hum. Once in the mist of hospital unconsciousness, he broke out in one of his heart-warming songs, bringing back a little security of youth. Now my youngest son complains about my humming; like a bird, cricket, cocka doodle do or yanky doodle dandy!!
This humming took me over about 3 months ago during times or moments of contentment while working. Yet, it has caused some problems in my little honey home. When my son is studying, I hear,
“Mom, you’re doing it again!”
I am guilty of this, and I try to stop, yet it is almost impossible. So, see, even though I was just as irritated by my mom’s and dad’s humming as my son is of mine, I tell him this,
“Little dude, humming means mama is happy baby. You should be happy that mama is happy!!”
In conclusion I’ve been waiting many years… I think I am finally going to go out and buy some darn Doc Martens…mine will be green!!
The song below is my Doc Martens song…. This has been a self-fashioning and self-styling statement.
The Mantis will sit in an attitude of extreme reverence and contemplation, his head turned sometimes slightly on side as if he were waiting…for the wind to come from far beyond the mountains on the other side of the desert to bring him a story of life before and beyond the moment. …~ Pg. 22. The Creative Pattern In Primitive Africa by Laurens van der Post
Hudley’s Tattoo flower 2012
Hudley’s Tattoo flower 2012
The Seminary of Praying Mantis is about nature politics and human beings. It is a voice of a little creature that survives the continuity of the seasons. It is all about life, death and rebirth.
I took on this title for my WordPress blog because I wanted to move away from my history of punk rock. I needed to expand to include all my interests. I admit the reason for creating this site was to promote a book I was working on entitled, The Seminary of Praying Mantis: A PUNKALULLABY. (The Punkalullaby title is based on stories I once wrote in Flipside Fanzine during the 1980s when publishing the fanzine.) Instead I found myself moving in other directions when writing. I still pivot and jump into the punk scene now and then, but not all the time.
I have been through some changes in the last four years. I lost my mom, dad and best friends. I also went through menopause, which was a bitch. Having this WordPress blog has saved my life. Writing is my cure and I love it.
I do not have a perfect writing style but a natural style. I am not trying to get anywhere or achieve some great success through writing. It is an “ising” experience.
I include a smörgåsbord of writing styles here. I am a punk rock writer that learns as she goes. My symbol for my style is the Praying Mantis.
The future may bring good news of publishing such as articles, books and more down to earth manifestations of my writing.
I am grateful for WordPress for giving me the opportunity to express myself; it is a great gift!! I think it is a big part of my destiny.
The Hierarchy of Libra rules this day of the new moon.
“The human body center correlating with Libra is to be found in the adrenal glands. These glands, when functioning properly, create absolute physical and psychological balance through each organ and it’s processes.”
Pg. 15 Corinne Heline
“May the element of space not rise up as an enemy,
may I see the realm of the blue Buddha.
May the element of water not rise up as enemy,
May I see the realm of the white Buddha.
May the element of earth not rise up as an enemy,
May I see the realm of the yellow Buddha.
May the element of fire not rise up as an enemy,
May I see the realm of the red Buddha.
May the element of air not rise up as an enemy,
May I see the green Buddhas.
May the rainbow of the elements not rise up as enemies,
May I see the realms of all the Buddhas.
May the sounds, lights and rays not rise up as enemies,
May I see the infinite realms of the Peaceful and Wrathful Ones.
May I know all the sounds as my own sound,
May I know all lights as my own light
May I know all the rays as my own ray.
May I spontaneously know the bardo as myself,
May I attain the realms of the three Kayas. “
~Pg. 101-2, The Tibetan Book of The Dead, Francesca Fremantle & Chogyam Trungpa
The hierarchy of Gemini illuminates our hands today.
A Flower…Mom, camera and Holly 1990’s by Hudley
“They are to be visualized as flower centers, fragrant, luminous and endowed with the precious gifts of healing, and bestowing benediction” Pg. 11
Yet maybe a nice hug or pat on the back might be more down to earth and human. Anything that we do with our hands we can make it a caring or creative gesture; A moment of conscious awareness in action.
“Be still and Know that I am Goddess [God].” Psalm 46:10
Maia, is the Goddess of May the hierarchy of Gemini.
“Romeo:
If I profane with my unworthiest hand
This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this:
My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand
To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.
Juliet:
Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,
Which mannerly devotion shows in this;
For saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch,
And palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss.
Romeo:
Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?
Juliet:
Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.
Romeo:
O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do;
They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.
Juliet:
Saints do not move, though grant for prayers’ sake.
Insights and notes through the creative “thinking stings” from The Eranos lecture series; The Creative Pattern In Primitive Africa by Laurens van der Post
There is a part of our spirit to which this voice of Mantis, speaking from an age of stone to an age of men with hearts of stone, commands us with the authentic tone of eternal renewal..”
Pg. 40
Praying Mantis Mandala for The Bushmen of the Kalahari desert and their “Thinking Strings” by Hudley
I am in the process of reflecting on the lecture, The Creative Pattern In Primitive Africa by Laurens van der Post. The lecture speaks of the Bushmen of the Kalahari desert and their ancient mythologies that happen to include Praying Mantis as their own “Spirit of Creation.”
The Bushmen worshiped the Mantis and consulted him as an oracle. Pg 21.
I include in this post, from the lecture, a poem / lament “by a father of a bushman that lived over a hundred years ago… he was a rainmaker and a magician.”
Pg. 38
“People were those who
Broke for me the string
Therefore,
The place became like this to me,
On account of it,
Because the string was that which broke for me.
Therefore,
The place does not feel to me,
As the place used to feel to me,
On account of it.
For,
The place feels as if it stood open before me,
Because the string has broken for me,
Therefore,
The place does not feel pleasant to me,
On account of it.”
What is interesting to me is though Laurens van der Post naturally brings and weaves the Bushmen and Wolfgang von Goethe together in comparison as to the writing of their particular styles of poetry, I take it further by placing it in the continuity of music which highlights this post in a delightful way. An essence of what this brings together and what it very well means. I came upon a connection or “thinking string’ between Wolfgang von Goethe and the German band Kraftwerk.
The “thinking strings.” This is the process of reconnecting the “thinking strings.” A continuity of thoughts, dreams, magic, “stories from the wind” and life .
Listen to the music and read the poetry. I am asking for the feelings that it generates in you. It will provoke you. My hopeful goal is to tie the “thinking strings” together again and to find what may have been lost, which is the spiritual beauty of the Bushmen. The Bushmen are the foundation of this Lecture by Laurens van der Post. Reading it has had a profound effect on my life. I also wait for the “stories of life before and beyond the moment .”
The Bushmen, Goethe, Laurens van der Post and the Praying Mantis.
The Mantis will sit in an attitude of extreme reverence and contemplation, his head turned sometimes slightly on side as if he were waiting…for the wind to come from far beyond the mountains on the other side of the desert to bring him a story of life before and beyond the moment. ~ Pg. 22.
Faust (Goethe)/Prologue
THE LORD === THE HEAVENLY HOST Afterwards MEPHISTOPHELES
(The THREE ARCHANGELS come forward.)
“RAPHAEL
The sun-orb sings, in emulation, ‘Mid brother-spheres, his ancient round: His path predestined through Creation He ends with step of thunder-sound. The angels from his visage splendid Draw power, whose measure none can say; The lofty works, uncomprehended, Are bright as on the earliest day.”
On going study of this lecture, I had to edit this from last night because I was very numinous and happy… and at these times perfection is not my goal but communication.
If I end up with cancer and I only have a few months to live I would do something revolutionary, but now I have the superpower of invisibility. It all happened one night on a walk around the neighborhood…
Happy Holiday Praying Mantis by Hudley
Mystical places do exist. Haven’t you caught them from the corner of your eye? A flash of light, a face or a building appears then gone when you look straight at it. I am not talking about black floaters or some science jargon here. The strangest thing I caught by this type of seeing was just down the block from my house. It was dusk and I saw two enormous white marble cat-like figures, taller than the trees and the houses. They were parallel to each other. It was a foggy night and the feeling of awesome came to mind. As a camera flash illuminates its object of focus then is out, so too was this image just as bright and followed by darkness.
Months later I strolled to this place again on one of my walks. This time it was late and the clear night sky shimmering multitudes of lights and unseen dark matter. I stood at the spot again where I viewed the cat-like figures. A sudden will-o’-the-wisp came down from the night sky and I heard a chant.
“Finally daughter-child you come to the altar. Take the gift of invisibility. Mock the greedy bastard rich who abuse their power on your sweet little planet.”
I knew my mission and all I had to do was say the chant.
“Mock the greedy bastard rich who abuse their power on our sweet little planet.”
I ran home and wrote the chant down. At first I thought myself crazy. I tried the chant a few times. Now invisible, I went to son’s classes and watched him working. I enjoyed this immensely. I often kissed him on his head and he felt me as a soft breeze. Somehow I think he knew someone was there.
I tripped his history teacher and watched him fall down three stairs and bloody his elbows. Even though I feel he is a good teacher, he makes a lot of mistakes when grading his student’s papers. Then and there I took a vow to only use the chant with integrity. Damn it…it really works!!
I studied hard and researched until I found all the information I needed. So my mockery-mission was planned. I took two weeks off during the Holiday season to go visit my brother. All was a foot! Airplanes, buses and even a few taxis were all free to an invisible passenger. Anything I wore upon my body was invisible like me. I did not have to go around naked like the invisible man Griffin.
Firstly my mission was invisibly-vising all the Koch brothers corporations. I destroyed all of their documents, computers and sabotaged their meetings while making a mockery of them.
Papers in the air, over turned coffee cups and farts from nowhere…
I could hear the angels laughing. Then I visited Fox News, Rush Limbaugh and a few strategically stupid Tea Party members. (I admit I digressed putting laxatives in Rush’s Whiskey) I hunted them down and haunted them as the three admirable ghosts from Charles Dickens A Christmas Carol.
As my final first mission and task; I took as much money from local banks as I could.
It really does not take a genius to plan a bank robbery when you are invisible!
Something Robin Hood and His Merrie Men might have done…sharing the wealth with the middle class and the poor.
It is easy to find needy people when you are invisible.
But this was just the beginning of my superpower… and I can tell you all this, there are more of us invisible people out there then you may realize… for we are the ghosts and angels not just of your dreams but those lights that twinkle at the corner of your eyes.
“I have come to learn how to use power in the right way,”
I asked him?
He replied,
“Use it only with great responsibility and compassion,”
And he held out his hand to me and smiled.
~ Pg. 5, Joy Michand The Saturn Pluto Phenomenon.
Shadow is pulling while the moist earth is whispering, there is a polarity for my attention today.
“Refrain from giving too much,” said the cool breeze!
As women who no longer bleed…we tend to write, heal and serve too much!
Shadow with head held high and wearing a sly grin said this to me,
“We must attend to the ways of the world girly girl! Defend yourself, draw your lines and fly the finger when someone cuts you off on the road while driving….”
“Oh yes shadow I remember doing that. We thought about tattooing my finger with a big praying mantis with a crown on her head. Look at the queen mantis you….”
“Then the moist breeze embraced me saying, “Take time, slow down and turn your back to the ways of the world. Feel the rain on your tongue!!”
“Whispering moist earth, I hear your love that heals me. I will not give so much time to my blog writing. I will attend to writing alone and will not share as much…!!”
“No not at all and for a while, until you complete what you have to do at home now!!”
“OK….”
Happy Birthday John Lennon …and to the Ford Falcon where I learned this song…8 track-tape.
Wade Davis: The Worldwide Web of Belief and Ritual (19:12)
When one consciously practices the ritual of the Great Giveaway one prepares for new things, opportunities and friends to come ones way on this mysterious journey we call life.
In the American Indian tradition the Great Giveaway is something you do with all the things that you no longer use or need; but some may call it junk. Toys, books and clothing but it can also include friends, family and beliefs. Son is turning 13 this year. I looked in his tight room and told him this,
“OK it is time to clear out the sides of your room!!”
He has several plastic containers filled with toys of all kinds. I told him I was not going to do it. So it took him some time to go through it. Some of the toys he put into the garage for observation and a future day to let go of these items, and a few plastic bags contained toys and things that we would take to the local Salvation Army. Our Salvation Army is a drive up. It is easy and the people who work there are angels. I told the workers that my son was turning 13 in a few mouths and that he was ready to let go of some stuff. I told him that these toys were still in good shape. The worker said this,
“Well son life gets better when you turn 13. It is going to be a great time for you son!!”
As we drove away we listened to the local 88.5 kcsn FM. It feels good to let go of the toys but it also tells me that the time is coming to let go of my little boy. The time of teenager is here.
Another story about Junk is when I called the bulky Item pick up to pick up some things: an old basketball stand and hoop, old metal ladders and a Golds Gym trapped in the garage. To our surprise Thursday evening before trash pickup was the best time to practice the Great Giveaway. No sooner had we put something out in-front of the house that three or four truck collectors were there to take it away. They came into the garage and immediately took apart the gym in moments. It was amazing to see. In the morning the real unusable junk was taken away by the city.
