Perhaps it's having, yet again, survived. Ignoring, for the moment, the ambivalence, the residual affect from the LSD -- which, I have to add, is in evidence for several days, maybe weeks -- there's a willingness, to digress from The Path of Navel Gazing.
Years ago Art, I settled on the silver-coated tarp. I'd like to blame my mom, an inVETERATE looker-for-silver-linings woman. But, the fact is, they last longer than the blue ones.
I keep one, protected, underneath the ensolite. It's the one for Three Days of Rain or, may the godz preserve me, SNOW!
It's seen some work and been folded long enough, several times in different ways, it probably leaks and is time for it to be rotated to the front.
Up front is the shade cloth...yea olde tarp. It's rigged with carabiners (in the grommets), to clip onto the roof rack. When not shading it does duty as a cushion-silencer under the propane tank; half is under the tank and the rest is pulled under one of the crossbars of the roof rack. So far it hasn't managed to get blown away.
Seems like there aughta be at least a Master's thesis in comparing the incidence of silver vs blue in birds' nests.
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