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Days of Our Lives (well, four of them) - Blather. Rants. Repeat.
A Møøse once bit my sister ...
Days of Our Lives (well, four of them)

Thursday shaped up to be a good day for a celebration. Only one court appearance- resolved the day before with no need to go- and no clients. Thus, no alarm. I spent the whole workday in my office here and just cranked out work- until the ice cream cake came out. Then cranked some more. Dinner was steak on the grill. Good wishes were abundant all day from near and far, including gift cards for dinner and Dunkin Donuts, and some wonderful books from Eleanor. Thank you for those:)


Winter, first day of (Observed).

We always get it here closer to my birthday than the Solstice, some years as early as October, but this year the first snow fell on Friday. Not much, and unlike most patterns it seemed to be moving east to west: Buffalo was clear and sunny-coming-up when I left, but I hit whiteout conditions on the 90, and by the time I got to sunny-but-it-had-snowed Rochester, Eleanor texted to report we got a bunch here after I left. Nothing stuck, and nothing since, but it's a Western New York State of Mind you just have to get into. I put the storm doors in this afternoon, and am waiting for our one big tree to drop its crown of leaves so I can get that-all cleared out, hopefully before the tundra sets in.

Veterans Day (Remembrance or Poppy Day to you, perhaps) fell officially on Saturday, leading to confusion about what was and wasn't closed. Banks were open, but courts and government offices weren't. There was mail, but neither of my offices got deliveries of it. I had one early appointment and was chasing a closing which all-but-finished except for the government-office-closed part to officially record it. In between, I checked to see if Emily had the day off, and she did- her first since taking the new job- and we met up to exchange media we'd been saving for each other and to indulge the local obsession we've both gotten into on Rochester's way east side.

My task at Record Archive was to see if I could find a David Sanborn album lost to history around here. I did, finally (the only copy they had among close to 100 of his others which we already had), and no, that bruise on his face was not permanent:

Just about every CD in the place is five bucks, so they make their money off other merch- some new releases, but mostly the weirdest of the weird:



I kept away from these, and Emily wound up getting me the CD I did pick out, as well as the vinyl she sought, and then taking me to lunch for my day-after-birthday. Our little girl is all growed up- growed up real good:)


Veterans (real).

Sure enough, 11/11 was the real deal for no banks and no mail. Fortunately, I had no need for either, and spent the day mostly home, but with one project I wanted to get to. Earlier in the week, I taught Eleanor to use some software, which she asked me to install on her laptop. This required finding the installation disk, which I last touched when putting it on my soon-to-be-serviced main laptop not quite two years ago. Good luck with that: I keep all that media in a desk-drawer portion of the highboy dresser I've had in my home for 30-plus years, and it becomes the Professor Whoopee closet of clutter if you let it, which unfortunately I do. So I hauled a bigass empty garden bucket to tame the weeds of memories and crap in there.

Among the first steps: admit you have a problem hoarding things that are beyond saving.


Thanks, dog:P (That was one of her earlier kills.)

Before too long, a bucket of other meaningless Met memorabilia joined the hat, along with backup logs of AOL trivia games from 15 years ago; tax software from 2001; installation disks for programs I can't even remember using, much less how to; and way too much paper. I kept one envelope of potentially sentimental photos, of which this one, of our two original kitties in their prime, was the only one even worthy of sticking on the scanner for this:


Our current two got fighting sometime late yesterday; I just showed them this and said, Cmon, THIS is how it's done:)


Fan Appreciation.

That wasn't officially the event on the Bills home schedule, but traditionally that's what sports teams call the game they use to thank their fans when the season is over. It sure feels like that after their second straight blowout loss, both to teams they were originally expected to beat handily.

But around here, Sundays always mean Dog Appreciation Day, and I was up and out with the pup as usual by 8 a.m. Once it was light enough and I was behind her, I saw (as Eleanor had before I left) that Ebony had a nasty wound on the back of her left hindquarter. It didn't seem to be bothering her while walking, but she'd clearly been working at it when on the sofa during the night, so when I got home, I cleaned it and coned her- at least I tried to, with a blowup cushiony one that sometimes works. At first, after I left for a workout, it seemed like she had gone into acceptance of her fate-


- but before I got home, Eleanor reported that the dog was working around the thing to get to some nasty spottage on her belly, as well. So she went out and got the full-on Cone of Shame for her, which she's been wearing, and bumping into things, ever since. Theories abound, but my best guess is it's one of the new food items we introduced after she got picky about her kibble and milkboney treats. She's been on Wegmans organic wet fud for weeks- I did bring some new flavors home, but it's pretty high quality- but the likelier suspect is that I got her some new rawhide treats after she started refusing the biscuit kind over the past month. Any product from China labeled "NOT FOR HUMAN CONSUMPTION" can't be good, no matter how much she begs. So we'll wait, and see, and clean. She'll cope, and complain, and bump.


No holidays this week- two Rochester trips, none with expected snow, one of them the second of my two multi-court days Tuesday and Thursday. I got three entries in since last weekend here, and did some Nano-ing; not sure if those trends will continue with work picking up.

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