Oh by the way, folks,
Today we celebrate one of the possible choices for the birthday of Frederic Chopin, born in 1810. He was a pianist and music composer.
During his lifetime he apparently celebrated his own birthday a week later, on March 1. I have no idea why. You'd think if he falsified his own birthday he'd falsify it a week early, not a week late, so he could legally start having booze sooner.
But maybe March 1 actually was his birthday and the "official" record of February 22 was on a falsified ID so maybe he actually did falsify it a week early so he could have a drink earlier.
Oh well, we'll probably never have clear proof either way.
Anyhow, nothing happened yesterday, except that I gathered together all the various and sundry used shoelaces I've saved through the years, and discovered I've got lots more than I realized. Hey, there's a million uses for used shoelaces, but once you've got your million what do you do with the rest?
Today our church is gonna set up the parish hall for a Big Event tomorrow. One of our most dearly beloved Crotchety Old Ladies has her 90-th birthday tomorrow, so we're gonna throw a giant super-bash of a party for her, for which we're gonna spend today decorating the parish hall.
Signs of life