This is the time of year when the grass is normally dormant, after getting blasted by the August heat. I am therefore delighted beyond measure that the grass is not only long but getting actively shaggy.... and that I have to wait until the dew has baked off before I can mow. The electric mower really doesn't like wet grass, you see. There are very few things that make me wish we had a gas-powered mower, but that's one of them. Bad enough to have to go out and do it twice a week when you didn't expect it. Worse when the tools require you to do it for a max of forty five minutes at a time, and, in damp grass, less. I want to just get it done.
Reading Every Patient Tells A Story, about the art of diagnosis. One doctor talks about being thrilled to find the answer to a condition that had eluded many others. She used a sophisticated tool, in keeping with today's technology. It's called Google. Her patient refused to believe the diagnosis, though -- persistent vomiting due to excessive marijuana use. Said it was implausible as all hell. Wonder if she'd have believed it if she'd seen it on Google? Our predecessors believed things more if they were on TV; we believe them more if they're on Google.
Interesting article about, of all things, vacuum cleaners. Yeah, I know: vacuum cleaners suck!
My wife says that in a year or so she'd like to paint our bedroom, which was last painted twenty or so years ago. Looks fine to me, but... okay. Then she said she'd like to change from a pale blue now to a pale yellow. Um, that, I'm not at all sure about. Oh, and get a new carpet, too. Carpet feels fine to me. I murmured something about doing it when we have the extension to the bedroom done (which is by no means certain), and she didn't care for that much.
I need to go to the store today. Why can't they just send the stuff home to me? (I'm sure, somewhere in Redmond, they're working on that.)
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