Teddy-Ricky had one very important job. For 24-hours at a time, three days a month, he sat deep below society, in a government bunker, watching an empty radar screen for incoming nuclear weapons. His desk had three things: His radar screen, a red folder of instructions for if he ever saw a blip, and a twin-tube tungsten-filament desk lamp. Most days were uneventful. But the dimmer knob sure was fun to play with.
There were a couple of clues that Hatchett was nearby. The wood looked freshly chopped, and his tractor was still warm.
Raplhie was the schoolmate who always seemed to be melting Crayola’s on the classroom radiator. He was one of the nicest kids in the class. As his evergreen and navy crayons slowly melted, the intercom kindly asked— “Ralphie, please come to the Principal’s office, and bring your things.”
Warm sand and tilandsia evoke visions of beaches. Not to shabby.
None of us really remember when Hank showed up, or where he came from. But he carries a fire-engine dimmer knob and fort-knox cord, so it seems to us that Hank is the real deal. With a soaring tilandsia, embedded hardware and dimmable spiral globe, this is one’s a favorite.