Oh by the way, folks,
Today we celebrate the birthday of Gene Autry, born in 1907. He was a singer and actor. His singing genre was an early form of what later developed into hillbilly twang-twang. As an actor he was type-cast into roles that emphasized vaporous purity as a substitute for real moral standards.
Yesterday church was the usual bore-god-to-death exercise. Father S lived up to his reputation as a true clergical champion, preaching the sermon in less than 4 minutes.
Then I blew off the rest of the day doing stuff nobody cares about, such as mowing some "grass" (meaning anything of whatever plant family growing where I wanna mow) and a few other mundane little jobs.
I'm wondering if I oughta do anything about that mulberry orchard beginning to develop in the cracks in the road next to the curb in front of my house. I suppose probably not, because the tron undergrounders will probably soon be there and whatever they excavate will probably render irrelevant anything I do before they get here.
And then after the tron undergrounders get through, the sidewalk installers will totally re-do the terrain anyhow.
Happy Mulberry Picking!
Signs of life