No, the title is not misspelled. This whole post is about a hole, or holes, so the title is a play on words. Y’all know how much I love words! Read on. Willie, like most men I know, is madly in love with tools. Big ones—we have a sawmill in our backyard, for heaven’s sake! Tiny ones—yes, there’s a special tool just for slicing baseboards. He treats them all like beloved pets with power cords.
Word Wisdom
Category: Logophiles
I have always loved this bit of wisdom: If you replace the “W” with “T” in what, where, and when, you get the answers to each of them.
Saga of the Broken Toe
Category: Life on the Ridge
Many of us have experienced the misery of a broken bone. There’s the initial shock—that delightful “wait, did I just audition for Cirque du Soleil?” moment—followed by the kind of pain that makes you question every decision you’ve ever made, starting with getting out of bed that day. Eventually it settles into a persistent, pulsing ache, like your body whispering, “You done messed up.” I’ve had my fair share of broken bones—it’s practically my side
Do You See Yourself?
Category: Life Lessons
There will always be someone who does not see your worth. Don’t let it be you.
When you approach home improvement like Willie does—with vision, patience, and a truckload of lumber—you end up with walls that tell stories and a workshop that tells jokes. You’re also going to end up with just a smidge too much scrap wood. We’re talking “we might need a permit for this pile” levels. And then Helene swoops in and shaves the top of the ridge like she’s restoring the Alps. Because why not? Now, Willie