There's the "Church of the Three Sticks" so called because of the tall skinny black, white and red crosses in the front lawn of the house down the road here in Waikanae - the guy who's done this has a bus parked there with words of heavenly exultation emblazoned across its sides. If you don't like what's on offer, go ahead and create your own church!
Then there's Flag Boy, further on up the road here, where the master of the house trots out a new flag every day and hoists it atop his hefty flagpole - a new one every day; one day he even flew the flag of the land of "Smiley Face" atop the pole! If you don't like living in the same place every day, what a great idea-just change the flag. Now I'm Brazillian and tomorrow who knows? Maybe I'll be Polish......
And then there's "Driftwood Castle" down the road from Lethe and Katie's. This guy has dragged driftwood that's been tossed from the ocean, dragged it all to his house and planted it like ragged teeth along the perimeter of his home. Some the shape of snakes, petrified and rammed into the soil, twisted and gnarled. Here and there are driftwood placards with mysterious phrases burnt and scratched on them. Maybe it's comforting - being protected by this weird wooden wall.
All this plus the warmth and laughter of the House of Gaskin - these ordinary points along the road made magical by the laughter of us all in the car as we drive past.
Then there's Flag Boy, further on up the road here, where the master of the house trots out a new flag every day and hoists it atop his hefty flagpole - a new one every day; one day he even flew the flag of the land of "Smiley Face" atop the pole! If you don't like living in the same place every day, what a great idea-just change the flag. Now I'm Brazillian and tomorrow who knows? Maybe I'll be Polish......
And then there's "Driftwood Castle" down the road from Lethe and Katie's. This guy has dragged driftwood that's been tossed from the ocean, dragged it all to his house and planted it like ragged teeth along the perimeter of his home. Some the shape of snakes, petrified and rammed into the soil, twisted and gnarled. Here and there are driftwood placards with mysterious phrases burnt and scratched on them. Maybe it's comforting - being protected by this weird wooden wall.
All this plus the warmth and laughter of the House of Gaskin - these ordinary points along the road made magical by the laughter of us all in the car as we drive past.
Ted
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