A Day in the Life of ...
As I sit here stuffing Tony's pizza (two for the price of one) down my pie hole for dinner, I'm thinking about how strange a day it was. It began with rain in the wee hours of the morning and was just drizzling when I awoke. The wind was coming from the southeast (where it comes from the minority of the time it is not coming from the northwest) and it was uncomfortably chilly. Even Sam wasn't interested in going outside. But, by early afternoon, the sun was out, the dew point had dropped by 10° and the temperature had risen to around 50°F. What a delightful afternoon! You could almost imagine that it was springtime on the mountain.
And, to top it all off, we had a beautiful sunset.
Even before going to bed last night, I had decided to give the philosophers the day off today. And so it was that in the dreary morning I finished my latest piece of sculpture.
I've named the piece "Schrödinger Contemplating His Cat". You may recall the discussion of the quantum mechanics thought experiment of a few days ago that prompted this piece.
Most of the afternoon was spent doing trail maintenance. In late winter, that typically means removing fall's leaves and winter's debris from the path. I also rerouted one section to make it easier for 60-year-old legs to negotiate. Any way you look at it, it's about a 40-story climb from the creek to the house. Accordingly, I just keep making the trail longer and, correspondingly, the average slope less steep.
Now it is time to do the laundry. I am, you understand, down to my last clean pair of jeans.
And, to top it all off, we had a beautiful sunset.
Even before going to bed last night, I had decided to give the philosophers the day off today. And so it was that in the dreary morning I finished my latest piece of sculpture.
I've named the piece "Schrödinger Contemplating His Cat". You may recall the discussion of the quantum mechanics thought experiment of a few days ago that prompted this piece.
Most of the afternoon was spent doing trail maintenance. In late winter, that typically means removing fall's leaves and winter's debris from the path. I also rerouted one section to make it easier for 60-year-old legs to negotiate. Any way you look at it, it's about a 40-story climb from the creek to the house. Accordingly, I just keep making the trail longer and, correspondingly, the average slope less steep.
Now it is time to do the laundry. I am, you understand, down to my last clean pair of jeans.
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