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Today is a good day.... to get off my damn lawn. - Blather. Rants. Repeat.
A Møøse once bit my sister ...
Today is a good day.... to get off my damn lawn.
I spoke today at a continuing ed seminar titled "Collection Law from Start to Finish." Fittingly, although I was one of five speakers, I was the only one who presented twice: at the start (right at 9 a.m.), and at the finish (going until just past 4:30 p.m.).  The room was mostly young lawyers, who really didn't relate to any of our stories of How We Used To Do It.  One of them was the young woman who lives next door to us- I didn't recognize her at first (haven't seen her out in months, and her hair color changes every few of them), and I also learned that she, her husband and their adorable puppy are going to be leaving in a few months for a house they just bought.

There were reminders of my days of that age: yesterday was 30 years since my swearing-in as a lawyer in New York, while our hotel, today, was also just starting to welcome (if that's the word) the influx of poor unfortunate souls who are sitting for the February Bar exam at the Convention Center next door. Buffalo is now the default site for out-of-staters, and the Hyatt put out a big basket of #2 pencils and menus for prepackaged box lunches for their days of hell.  At least there are not a lot of distractions to keep them from their last-minute studying.

One big change from my days of testing and swearing-in, circa mid-80s, is how wired we all are now. When I wasn't speaking, I had near-constant incoming calls to check out, and emails and texts to answer.  Thanks to a couple of those, I now know I do not have to go on the road ass-early tomorrow, and there's a good chance I won't have to go at all.  That's good, because we have a repairperson (allegedly) coming here between 9 and 11 tomorrow; our 25-plus-year-old washer gave up the ghost on Saturday, and when I gave up my feeble attempts to fix it (the switch that stops the spin cycle when the lid is open got out of alignment, and finally blowed up in a flash of circuit-breaking sparks), I finished the cycle at a laundromat and we waited until today to schedule a real repair.

Meanwhile, Emily and Cameron got their new bed delivered.  (First National Bank of Dad, Member FDIC;) Cam was here over the weekend, and we bequeathed them an extra metal frame we'd had laying about in the garage (almost blowtorching it until Eleanor noticed that the pieces of the frame basically slid into place and could be unslid without the use of power tools). Turned out, though, that the new bed is thigh-high just resting on the bedroom floor.  Pillowtops, y'know.  So they (and their backs) will be resting more happily tonight.

As will my voice- which, between the concert last week and speaking so much today, has me a little hoarse:

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