Oh by the way, folks,
Today we celebrate the birthday of Joan Fontaine, born in 1917. She was an actress.
And now for an account of yesterday.
During my routine morning trash patrol I observed a UtiliQuest worker in my front yard putting new marker flags up for all the existing underground stuff. I didn't get a chance to stop and yak with him so I don't know whether he coulda told me how soon the tron undergrounders are gonna be here.
Then I ripped out a rotten tree stump. The rot was far enough advanced so that I could do most of it with just bare hands. Only the last little snicket required tools.
Then I took my ripped-off garage eve gutters to the scrap metal recyclery. In the process, I decided I'd pretty much had enough of needing to hold Nelson the Nissan's tailgate open with one hand while loading and unloading with the other hand because the tailgate open-holders were worn out.
So on the way home from the scrap metal recyclery I stopped by Advance Auto and bought a new pair of tailgate open-holders. Nelson the Nissan's tailgate now works as canonically appointed.
Then I stopped by the post office. Mostly junk mail, nothing memorable.
Then I observed that the tron undergrounding process had proceeded to the point where one of the poles was being removed. This, of course, involved waiting for the flagman directing traffic.
Then I observed that the heirs of grandiose estate owner X. Bedford Glascock III, who died a few weeks ago, have decided to make a few changes to the use of the grandiose estate. Some sorta huge industrial installation is getting installed.
And then back home in time to feed War Goddess.
Today is MrsPest's birthday so we'll figure out how to celebrate that somehow or t'nother.
But first, a chiro-quack-quack knee-jerk. I wonder what new and fun kinda knee-jerk it's gonna be this time.
And then this evening is gonna be another church pot luck dinner. The presento is gonna be about faith, which I don't have much of. I try to avoid having faith. Sounds too much like intellectual debauchery to me.
Happy Intellectual Debauchery!
Signs of life