Spare Time

Exactly what is spare time? Spare, used as an adjective, means additional to what is required for ordinary use. Or, meager and nearly inadequate. Does this mean that the time I spend relaxing is considered spare? Is the time I spend sitting on the patio, basking in the sun’s rays considered spare? Maybe it’s the time I’m spending here, writing about a thing that makes me wonder if wondering about such things is a waste of my own spare time. But, if there is such a thing as spare time, do you reckon we could share with those who have no time to spare?

Oh, my. Remember the movie with Justin Timberlake, where people had only so much time? I caught the last few minutes but wouldn’t use my spare time to watch the entire thing. He should stick with making music. I actually bought a song of his. It’s “Hallelujah,” from the save Haiti movement. It moves me when I listen to it on my iPod, but that’s not often, since I only listen in my spare time.

Hey, sister! Can you help a sister with a little spare time?

The Palomino

I am fond of good pencils. My favorite drawing is a carpenter’s pencil. It holds a variety of widths. My second favorite is the Palomino Black Wing. The graphite is almost too perfect. The point glides across the paper. Its heft is ideal. Its extra length is a minor drawback. It’s too long for my boxes and pouches, but I like the idea that it might last longer than my other pencils. The only thing that really annoys me is the eraser. It is not a good one. It barely removes the marks I want gone.

I do like the magic hidden within the Palomino’s wooden body. I like it so much that I wrote a letter with one once. My hand skimmed across the surface of the page.

Uh, oh. I did have to sharpen it a lot though. Too often, if I am to be totally honest. But, I enjoyed sharpening new points. The blades never failed. Not once. BTW, the erasers are meant to be replaced. Not sure I will ever order new ones, since I prefer my kneaded eraser instead.

Whosain Molt

Okay. There is no pretending that this is a stellar drawing. I have done very little art work since my sister passed on, so am more than rusty; yet, this is good enough for me. Sheesh. Am distracted by the bulge. BRB. Gotta go fix it.

Okay. It is done. I am too lazy to scan another copy, so I hope you will take my word that the tweaked drawing is much better. So. I did the sketch for my brother, who is the only person I know who doesn’t the name of the fastest man on the planet. To help him out, I decided to send him the entire Olympics 2012 sport section of the NYT I’ve been saving for any possible future grands that might come my way. Since I could not send him such marvels in a plain white envelope, I tarted it up just a little. Hope you get at least a smile from my efforts.

Be well.