As mentioned here a few times this year, The 2024 Lumber Through Hell Tour has hit a bit of a rough patch due to my old ass nursing multiple toe, foot, and knee issues, along with trying to refinish our deck before the summer of 2029.
However, these issues did not stop me from getting out for a slow 5-mile hike on Monday morning before tackling more deck sanding. Sadly, I can’t even call it a lumber because I struggled to even maintain 3.5 miles per hour. There was also shit to photograph.
Having said that, I WILL TALK NO MORE about the series of injuries that I can’t seem to shake. So, as I’ve done in the past, with topics like the Orange Fuck Face that has divided our country beyond repair, my life-long battles with depression, Cat 5 Cooking, and the ill-advised blog series dedicated to middle-aged, marital sexual exploits failures, I am refusing—or at least going to attempt, to never talk about the injuries again. Until I do.
If you see photos from a hike, then you know I’m out there. If they’re from a ride, you know I was back on my bike for some reason. And if I’m placed in The Royal Institute for The Depressive Obese just outside of Toronto, Canada, you know I mentally collapsed into giant pile of beer-scented adipose tissue.
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The photos in today’s post were from around the Cul De Sac Shack. I hope you like birds.
Later.