Oh by the way, folks,
Today we celebrate the birthday of Howard Brubeck, born in 1916. He was a music composer.
Sorry about no entry yesterday. DiaryLand appeared to be having unhappiness.
The last coupla days it's been lotsa nice thunderstorms.
The underground tron installers have reached the front of the first house south of C Street. That house is one of the fine old historic mansions of our community, and has an antique decorative wrought-iron fence around it.
Everybody in the neighborhood is sorta concerned about possible damage to the fence, because it'd cost quite a bundle to do proper repairs that would restore it to its canonically appointed glory.
The folks that live in the house are financially okay, but nobody wants to see them hafta blow it all on repairing their fence. So if the underground tron installers slip and damage it, they're gonna face an awful lotta flak from everybody.
Today I've got a routine eye doc apptment that I think is gonna go okay. One of the things they're gonna do is run a whole buncha tests for the possibility of a seriously bad eye problem that runs in my family, but it's apparently associated with our hereditary Family Curse that I somehow avoided inheriting, so I think I'll be okay.
So I suppose the apptment will blow off a goodly much of the day.
Signs of life