Look what I did, by myself, with a screwdriver, not a drill:
I'm ridiculously pleased with myself. (And my hands hurt  )
Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
__________________
'...
At poor peace I sing
To you strangers (though song
Is a burning and crested act,
The fire of birds in
The world's turning wood,
For my sawn, splay sounds,)
...'
Dylan Thomas, Author's Prologue
|