"Jeat Jet?"

My favorite talks on the phone with my brother Erik is when I have to hang up because I can't stop laughing.

  This wasn't one of those times but I did muster a pretty good cracking when I told him "Erik, I see this little house with a shit load of bird houses all over it."  The more insane out of nowhere the better.  The fact that I am explaining this is killing it here.  It's just not funny now!  I further piled it on when I told him how I was going to dump a whole bag of Chips Ahoy in this tiny garden for all the bird houses. 

I am just zooming into this birdie chalet on the right. These bird houses live about 3.5 minutes walking distance from my Mom's house in Edmonds, Washington.  The window is so yellow that there must be a Dr. Zhivago waltz playing for sure inside.

As soon *and I mean AS SOON* as I clicked my little Nikon button, a bearded dude with a yellow cap appeared.  It was really cheesy that I asked him if I could take photos of his bird houses AS I AM TAKING PHOTOS OF HIS BIRDHOUSES - DEEEEEEEEEEEEEEH.  "He spoke exclusively from the larynx, as if he were altogether too tired to put any diaphram breath into his words." - Just Before the War with the Eskimos, JD Salinger. 

It's not like he said "Hey, why the hell are you taking pictures of my house?!"  Instead, he was more than happy to share his lovely miniature creations.

For this one, I asked, "Can I take this photo?" He said, "Yup."  Then he went into his microscopic clap  board house on the corner and told me he was going to bring out more of his bird houses.  *I'm thinking, don't be thinking I am going to follow you in there, floating log spinner.  Could you just imagine him in the Puget Sound balancing himself on a floating log?*

Tim is the kind of guy that would give his pen to somebody kneeling on the sidewalk trying to write down a phone number with a busted tip pencil. He would say "Hey, I just found this pen, go ahead and keep it."  Even though he was really hospitable I was hoping he wasn't going to say "Jeat Jet?".   I was rehearsing rapidly how I would say that "That's really quite all right, I just inhaled a whole bag of Chips Ahoy." or "I think I have to go polish my chrome plated bread box now".

I asked him if he sold any of these bird houses at the local farmer's market *which I already knew the answer* and he said no, he just makes bird houses for his friends. Thanks Tim.  I wonder if you come from a long line of floating log harpooning spinning shingle makers?