mOm do tell Ontie Mary that I finished reading the book she gave me. Absolutely loved it. V. Gordon Childe was an incredible original, reminiscent in many ways in his antiestablishment and decidedly leftist views to our dear and now passed Prof. Mick Aston; he excavated Skara Brae (although he was dead wrong about the dating, it’s Neolithic not Iron Age) and systematized many aspects of modern archaeology we now take for granted. He read a dozen languages and couldn’t pronounce any of them for shite. He was so confirmed in his view that older archaeologists were a fucking plague on the profession that when he turned sixty five he returned to Australia, land of his birth, said goodbye to remaining family and friends, put his affairs in order, went for a walk and jumped off a cliff.
Sometime in late February we got a Walmart delivery to the back basement door and didn’t notice. It got et by critters. Jeff phoned Walmart. We can now recycle the rotting order from the back deck. There was a child’s playhouse in there too, I guess Ryker is getting it. Jeff and I feel terrible about it. I’m going to make a weatherproof sign for the back door so hopefully it never happens again, because this is twice in a year.
There’s something very contentment-making about friending an old boyfriend on facebook and …. he’s acting like an old friend without being nosy. Not whatever it is that young men are supposed to have turned into. Age has its consolations, youth its horrors.
Today Keith comes over to fix us a vegetarian lunch. I roasted some beast yesterday (three veg nuked). It was edible but far from choice. Didn’t stop me and Jeff from piling it down, however, and horseradish sauce covers a multitude of sins.
1974 words on Instructor, no progress on TB.
Lumosity was a bust today. Wordle in 4. The word was tough, quite literally.