Words Won't Work

There is too much to write about and I've been thinking about swearing off the habit anyway, so I'll just show some pictures of what has been going on and on: house-fixing, motorcycle gangs, weird skies, I don't know what-all:










Hardworking days with rotten wood and a tranquil night by Gary's fantastic firepit. And a taxi night that suddenly turned violent when a masked motorcycle gang attacked my taxi on the upper level of the Queensborough Bridge at 1:30 a.m. before Halloween. (I won.) More of that later.