MY DEMENTED DIARY

Oh by the way, folks,
oldest entries are deleted
to keep the total entry
count at 666 because
that number is sure to
rile up somebody who
sorely needs it.

GUEST BOOK

My more serious diary:
A Walk Through the
Valley of the Shadow

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Today we celebrate the birthday of Henry David Thoreau, born in 1817. Everybody knows who he was, a general-purpose philosopher and major contributor to environmental awareness. He made his living as a land surveyor, but nobody remembers him for that.

Yesterday's eye doc apptment went just fine. I can still see okay.

One of my petty annoyances (for at least 15 years) is that I seem to keep catching itty-bitty snickets of lint in my left eye. The doctor found the reason for that. They're not snickets of lint. They're artifacts of a slight defect on my eyeball. Theoretically correctable by surgery, but not worth it as long as the annoyance is minor.

So now that I know what the problem is, I can learn to ignore it. Just use the duly prescribed eye drops.

And then I made the observation that to get Morris the Manual Mower and Sir Isaac the Neuton to mow the same height, I've gotta set Sir Isaac almost a whole inch higher. I knew that a rotary blade has gotta be set up a bit higher because of the upward suction effect, but I hadn't realized the difference was almost a whole inch.

Anyhow, it looks like nothing's gonna happen today.

Happy Saturday!

OrneryPest