Durability

Hallowe'en last, somebody's errant child (or children) wrapped one of the houses down the block with toilet paper. (Since the family has a teenaged daughter, I'd guess it was somebody who knows her. Perhaps not unexpectedly, I've noticed that when houses in my neighborhood get the TP treatment, Hallowe'en or no, there is always a teenaged girl living there. Make what you will of that sociology.)


Um. Anyway, the family unwrapped the place, but they missed a spot, out in the bushes to the north side of the yard. A little drape, couldn't see it from the house I don't think, and in the five-and-some months since, I pass this San Jose juniper now and then whilst walking the dogs.


The image above is what that spot looks like as of today, after five months of one of the wettest winters and springs in recent memory. A paean to the durability of arsewipe. 
Of course, I suspect it was two-ply, and that goes with one of the best pieces of advice a father can give to a child: Always go for the two-ply, my son. You'll never be sorry ...


When the archeologists dig down into modern landfills, after but a few inches, they sometimes find twenty-year-old newspapers whose front pages are still readable, along with dessicated carrots and mummified banana peels, none of which show signs of rot. 


Interesting stuff, if you have a weird mind as I do ...