I fetched the Sweet Dreams Saturday special —sweet BBQ on a pretzel roll— and split it with Dave for supper.
Sometimes it's quicker to cook for yourself. I said "it's about time to eat" just as everybody at the art fair did. There were only two people ahead of me in line when I got there, but before I got to the counter the line snaked out the door and almost out the other door. Which wasn't all that quick an accumulation, because both of the people ahead of me gave very elaborate orders.
Then before the order was brought to me, I was starting to wonder whether they were out chasing a hog with a butcher knife. I started out cheerful because I was the only person in the dining room without food, then realized that there were also people on the porch — then noticed that all of *them* had food, and started to wonder whether they'd called my number and I didn't hear them.
But it was fresh and good when we finally got it, even though it took me a bit to pack it into the inadequate basket on the flatfoot, and then I had to pedal home and set the table.
Because a small drink came with the meal, I ordered iced tea and was quite surprised that it was *good* tea. It not only had flavor, it tasted like tea! And no sugar or sweetener, just tea.
It reminded me of last summer, when I came into downtown Warsaw in desperate need of tea, and bought a bottle of tea-color syrup at Owens West. (A little while later Dave called me to meet him at Mad Anthony's, and I got a tall glass of real tea.) I vowed that if I got into that situation again, I'd go to Kilaney's Warsaw for a drink.
And I just might get into such a situation again. I rode to the library yesterday, and went on downtown. (Where I found a cheap knife at the antique store; I'm sure it's not stainless steel because I had to scrub off a lot of rust. (Pauses to put a little sewing-machine oil into the hinge of the knife.))
Then this morning I rode to Owen's by way of the fairgrounds, and this afternoon I walked and flatfooted all over downtown Winona Lake to see the art fair, including many steps and curbs, and I'm feeling almost no pain in my bad leg and (at the moment) none at all in my bad knee.
So it's at least possible that I'll go far enough to get back into Warsaw in dire need of tea before the summer is over. But I'm going to be *very* careful on the boardwalk in November!
Oops! I didn't push the cultivator during that dry spell. I'm going to regret that.
I've discovered that lemon basil is good in chef salad.
That was quick: as I was sitting down here to say that my folding magnifying glasses were not in the pocket of either pair of pants, I saw them on the ironing board, together with my bike keys and stick sunscreen.
So I added my lipstick and pocket knife to the pile after taking the knife and a newspaper out to the shop to pinch the hinge of the knife in Dave's vise — now the blade doesn't wobble. Not as sharp an edge on it as I'd hoped, but it's sharper than the knife I lost — and I do carry a single-edge razor blade in my pocket sewing kit.
I've agreed to help teach people how to sew on buttons at the Day of Helping on June 28th.
Now if I could remember *who* I promised …
Even though it ran three days, we missed the Egg Festival again. There was too much going on this weekend.
My knee hurt a little walking up Chestnut Street, which made me glad that I hadn't chosen to walk the whole distance.
There was a puddle on the patio this morning, but it has been sunny ever since I woke up. Prediction says mostly sunny again tomorrow; perhaps I should put a load of hot whites in to soak tonight.
New Record: I scored eight at Hexavirus.
Yesterday I rode to Owen's the long way despite predictions of showers, because I wanted to buy a mini-iron at Lowery's. But the only iron they had was *too* mini; it was a modified soldering iron.
It was sunny the whole trip, but when I came out of Owen's, there were fresh puddles. My timing was very good!
While at the grocery, I bought a small "fused glass" patio table, to replace the old chair I began in 2001 to use as a temporary expedient to hold my laundry basket while I'm hanging clothes. Well, not the *same* old chair; the first one I pressed into service fell apart just when another got unsafe to sit on. Same windmill blades resting across the arms, though.
I won't know how it works until Monday.
I've been working on two pairs of linen pedal pushers. I hemmed all the patch pockets today.
About three o'clock this morning, we learned that Al can turn on the Roomba. We had no idea that the indicator light on the Roomba was so *bright*!
Dave's motion-detector camera revealed that it had been going for an hour before it found its way into the bedroom — the first picture shows Al looking astonished.
So Dave has decided to try out the scheduler, and it's set to do it again at two o'clock tonight. But this time with a virtual wall to keep it in the living room/kitchen. If all goes well, we should find it docked in the morning.
Pout. Google Maps says that yesterday's Tour d'Warsaw was only seven miles. Pretty soon now, I'm going to go clear through town to see how the roundabout is doing, and whether there was any progress at the burned-out supermarket during the winter.
We had our first boat ride Saturday evening. I bought a barbecue on pretzel roll at Sweet dreams for supper, and we ate it while cruising around the lake. We shared a "small" glass of tea, and brought some of it home. The paper cup fits nicely into the bottle holder on my flatfoot, by the way.
Puzzlement: I felt a pain while crawling out of bed yesterday morning, and looked down to see a scabby scrape on my shin. I had thwacked a shin on a pedal while using the flatfoot as a walker on Sunday — but it was the other leg! When I put my foot in the sink to pour peroxide on the wound, I saw that the whole bony part of the shin was red, and so was the other shin, and the upper layer of skin was scuffed a little at the same height as the wound on my right leg.
Still no idea as to what I've been doing, and the spot is still sore, but I think the red has faded — if I don't get sunlight square on it, it looks brownish, rather than irritated. If it weren't for the scrapes, I'd think it was because I've not yet started putting sunscreen on my legs.
Sunday I noticed that I was low on levothyroxine; Monday I went to the Easy-Fil website and ordered all three prescriptions, Tuesday I went to Owen's for the sole purpose of picking up my prescriptions, bought milk and vegetable juice, came home, and didn't remember the prescriptions until hours later.
So this morning I put some magazines into my pannier, picked up the medicine, and, just for the exercise, came back by way of the emergency room's waiting room, the boardwalk, and Lake street.
I rode 10.6 miles, according to Google Maps. Google Maps is doing that thing again where if you put a waypoint the least bit down a road, you must follow that road clear to the end, and putting in more waypoints only adds more loops. I wish there were some way to find out what makes the roads that do that different. Some such roads have dead ends, but Warren Street makes a right-angle turn and becomes William Street, and William ends on Lake City Highway, which the loop follows back to where I turned onto Warren Street to get to Penguin Point.
I haven't told Dave the good-news/bad-news joke yet: I stopped at Penguin Point — and ordered chili cheese fries, which means that I came home *without* two chicken thighs in my cooler.
Did still have some ice when I got back. I put my pills and, later, the chocolate and the snack sausage I bought at Sherman & Lin's in the cooler, but above the bag containing the bottle of ice and my emergency lunch so they wouldn't get *too* cold and condense humidity.
The chocolate is dark chocolate with ginger, and I *like* it.
I think I've got the hang of the cooler now — it's no longer a hassle to open it to put stuff in or take it out — so I'll describe it for those of you who have wire panniers.
To block wind, I lined the pannier with slightly-crumpled plastic bags; that is, I unfolded and flattened the wads, but wasn't fussy. Then I lined again with newspapers folded to fit the sides and the bottom, putting the bottom paper in last to hold the others in place. Then I lined that with the biggest plastic bag that came to hand and put in a Rubbermaid square plastic quart bottle filled with ice and cold water — level full, so the cubes didn't rattle as I rode — and a bag containing two fruit-and-grain bars and a protein bar. Folded that bag down and topped with another newspaper folded like the one on the bottom.
Then, here's the innovation, I stuffed my bag of crumpled bags (Which I carry in case I need cushioning or containers for stuff I pick up along the way) into the pannier to fill up the rest of the cooler. So instead of unpacking and un-insulating and unfolding, I just lift out the bag of bags — it even has a handle — and look under the folded newspaper. Easier than opening the six-pack cooler Dave carries soda in the car in. (Well, that's partly because I'm standing beside it, not twisted around in a car seat fumbling at arm's length.)
I bumped the sore spot on my right leg a few times while mounting and dismounting — but that doesn't explain the redness on my *left* leg!
Upon inspecting my legs after the sun came out, I saw that they are brown, rather than red. Must have been sunburn — but why would skin directly over bone be more susceptible than skin over muscle? At least it makes sense that the left leg would get redder than the right one.
A thunderstorm started right after I got home. I got rained on on the way from Sherman and Lin's to home, but not enough to dampen my linen jersey. On the outward leg, I passed a fountain with children playing in it, but discovered that the falling water was just a little bit too far from the brim to wet my sleeves with. I dabbled some in what the children had splashed onto the pavement, but that got the sleeves wet only on the underside; it's the top of the sleeve that cools you. Should have thought of blotting my sleeves on each other.
The fellowship committee met yesterday evening and we planned the picnic. It's to be on Sunday, the sixth, so I won't have three parties in one day.
Yesterday's excursion was, in part, to see whether there were signs of life at the burned-out Mexican supermarket. As I came around the laundromat (I come into the shopping center through the back entrance off West Street) I saw a chain-link fence and thought "Yay! Reconstruction!", then got further and saw that the building had been razed completely and something entirely new was going up. Seemed to feature a lot of concrete block — I didn't notice any combustible building materials. As I was finding my way around the new playground that had gone up next door (and regretting the loss of the snow-cone booth) I spotted a workman separated from the noisy machinery and asked what was going up; he said that they were rebuilding what had burned down.
So I'm going to have to check on them every week — and have lunch at Penguin Point.
I keep forgetting to look to see whether the pay phone beside the creek is still there when I pass through the park next door. Could wander out for that specific purpose, I suppose. I did notice that the phone in Fribley Field, next to the dollar store on Market Street, is represented only by a patch of unhealthy grass and the two posts that used to keep cars from knocking it over.
You'd think that there would have been mention in the paper when who-ever was subsidising them decided to stop, but that sort of thing is always buried deep in the minutes and the headlines never state that more than one topic is covered by the story. I could easily have missed it.
I'm trying to document the progress of the pedal pushers I'm making; this morning I had to reset JOY98 three times before I managed to upload my photograph; in the interval, I'd taken two more. Finally got to see it and found that it was a double exposure, as if the camera had moved during the shot. So I faked that stage of construction and took another. That one turned out, so I deleted the first one.
One of the new shots was also bad, but I'd taken the same picture from two angles and the other is all I want. The bad shot was in focus, but didn't show what I wanted shown.
I just barely missed Al's tail while I was rolling the typing chair from the sewing machine in the bedroom to the computer in the sewing room. He didn't notice. That's the problem with barn kitties: when they finally trust you, they trust you altogether too much.
I did go out to look at the pay phone. Realized that I didn't want to walk on gravel barefoot and put on the gardening slippers I keep by the door, then thought that I didn't want to walk that far in plastic soles with no socks and hopped aboard the flatfoot.
No evidence that there ever was a phone. Did they take it out when they built the bridge? The artwork beside the bridge is also gone, but the bench for people to sit and look at it is still there. Better view without it, in my opinion. It depicted a free-standing stained-glass window; I presume that the plastic panes weren't sun-proof and it was cheaper to take it down than to replace them.
Made some progress on my pedal pushers, and took a whole bunch of pictures that I haven't uploaded yet.
Left-over "Chicken Tinga" for supper, with zapped fingerlings and frozen peas. Pretty good.
Comcast wasn't co-operating when I tried to freshen my off-site back-ups.
Have an extensive Tour d'Warsaw planned for tomorrow; hope I wake up reasonably early.
The tour went so well that I walked to church today. I wanted to trot around the narthex yelling "Look! No bicycle!"
I do believe that I'll have a use for the tea ice cubes left over from last summer's all-day bike rides.
I'll have to make some bitter tea sooner than expected. In church today, I realized that the shift I agreed to work at the Day of Sharing this Saturday precisely co-incides with my nap time.
I went to both farmer's markets — oops, I've not yet planted the winter savory I bought.
There was still a little light left, and the tablespoon that I dug up when planting the lemon grass was stuck in the Joe Rickets bed close to where I planned to plant the savory, so that didn't take long. I pinched off the tip of one of the branches, and I think that winter savory will go quite well with thymenoregano. It's way past time I made some hamburger soup or other highly-seasoned dish.
Grump. Google Maps says my tour was only eleven miles. And I can't take a route even that long this Saturday, because I have to be in the church and set up at one o'clock.
After flashing through the flea markets, I followed Market Street into Zimmer's parking lot, and went out the back door of the lot onto Zimmer Road. Since parking lots aren't in Google's database, it insists that I took a right at Heppler and got to Zimmer Road by way of Zimmer Lane, but that's the other two sides of a rectangle and shouldn't affect the total distance.
Thence to the two roundabouts, which are still working very well, with a tenderloin sandwich (which I ordered instead of a tenderloin meal by mistake, and that was just as well) at Penguin Point just before the second roundabout. Short stop at the nursery to look over the herbs — nothing I don't have except sage, which I don't want.
A more careful look at the new playground; I noticed with approval that there was a lawn swing for parents to sit in, and with disapproval that it uselessly faced the traffic, putting the adults' backs to the children — then when I got close there was a sign saying that it was a display sample, please don't sit in it.
Without heavy machinery running around, I could see that the back wall of the gutted building had been salvaged. It and the firewall that had saved the laundromat were black at the top; I wondered why they hadn't pressure-washed the walls before starting to rebuild, so as not to seal stench in — but it's possible that they did wash it and this is as clean as it comes.
I came back by way of the Beyer Farm Trail boardwalk, left a copy of The Hoosier Farmer at the emergency room, and picked up a bag of salad at Owens. Took the Heritage Trail from the Boathouse to the playground, but I didn't tell Google Maps that.
I thought, the map still being up on the other computer, that I'd see whether it would have made a difference — from the Boathouse to Administration Boulevard, the Heritage Trail is not part of Google's database.
We have a whole basket of cat toys. At least two of them are rolling around in the bedroom someplace.
Al is beside the bed killing a clothespin.
Took the whites in before nap time, and put the blacks on a rack in the garage. Weather Underground and the National Weather Service disagree on whether the risk of thunderstorms starts at three o'clock or five.
I left one pair of still-damp denim shorts on the line.
Fiddled with photographs between loads of wash. Renamed a few, but no cropping, scaling, or linking.
I wouldn't mind it taking seventy minutes to do a load if three quarter-hours of it weren't spent "sensing", as the idiot lights call filling the tub in dribbles. I walked past the machine and heard water flowing freely; as if sensing my gratification, the washer immediately switched to dribbling. It frequently shuts off entirely.
Hrrm. It also takes a quarter hour to wring. No wonder it beats the clothing so furiously during the time left for agitating!
Adding computers to washing machines did not in any way improve them. I can think of lots and lots of ways that computers *could* make a washing machine better, but not one of them has been implemented.
I also read somewhere that all modern washing machines retain a puddle of water to mix with the next filling. *That* was a solved problem long before they added electric motors!
Y'know the improvised laundry-basket stand I finally replaced with a "fused-glass" table? Today I discovered that a little three-leg table we've had forever works better than the fancy new table.
But I also ripped a leg off it when moving it without lifting it high enough. Dave put epoxy on it and it's out in the garage curing.
So I won't use that table again, but I'm going to keep my eye out for three-legged stools.
We have a plan! The bread in the freezer has gotten down to less than half a loaf of Hillbilly bread, I need a decicentury ride, the weather bureau says that Wednesday will be a good day to be outside (if you have a ten-mile-an-hour breeze!), and Google Maps says that Aunt Millie's Outlet by way of Wooster is twelve miles. If I go by way of Pierceton, that's pushing sixteen.
I learned recently that one cannot delete files from the recycle bin — they get transferred to the recycle bin. I happened to have that directory open for some reason, saw a bunch of files I was a hundred-percent certain I'd never want to undelete, and tried to delete them. I'd gone several rounds before I realized that the number of .&* files. wasn't getting any smaller.
So I suppose that what I did was to make them stick around longer, since they are now marked as recently deleted.
Last Sunday, when I walked past a poster outside one of the children's play rooms, the caption of the first panel fitted itself to a tune that was running through my head. This naturally forced me to make all the other panels fit, then I had to find a sheet of paper in a wastebasket and write the lyrics down:
Jesus loves me when I am eating
Jesus loves me when I'm in school
Jesus loves me when I am playing
Jesus loves me when I'm a fool
Jesus loves me always, ever
Jesus loves me when I sing a song
Jesus loves me when I am sleeping
Jesus loves me when I'm wrong.
Alas, like most lyrics it's nothing without the tune, I didn't know its name, I can't read or write music, and now I've lost it.
And it lacks a "this is the last line" line.
Ah! "Jesus loves me all the time." would be perfect. But I'd have to add a whole quatrain, and replace the fifth line, which never fit there in the first place.
Jesus loves me when I'm happy,
Jesus loves me when I'm sad
Jesus loves me when I'm sleeping
Jesus loves me when I'm bad.
This is not the quatrain you were looking for.
Jesus loves me when I'm singing
Jesus loves me when I climb
Jesus loves me when I help others
Jesus loves me all the time.
I took my cooler apart and put the newspapers into the recycling bin. Shopping for bread doesn't call for carrying ice, and I can use the space the newspapers occupied.
A few days ago Comcast sent Dave a new modem that they said would speed up our access. He installed it, but it didn't seem to make any difference except that his IP cameras stopped working. Finally he figured out that the new modem contained a router that conflicted with our internal router, and it couldn't be turned off or disabled, so today he turned it in at the local service center and they gave him his old modem back.
Somehow this exchange erased his three of the six websites we got when we signed on, including the one he gave to me for backing up JOY98 Drive C. I don't *think* any of my websites were affected, but so far I've checked only roughsewing. Why the erasures picked on him and ignored me, I don't know — we never told Comcast which sites were his and which were hers.
So this morning I started uploading directories from JOY98. 5inDisk took ages, which is only to be expected; it was boxes and boxes of disks, probably equivalent to a whole drive.
Then I started the Agent directory uploading, expecting it to take only a few minutes, as it does when I copy it onto JOYXP C. Got the ironing done; it was still uploading. Pressed seams-to-be in my new pedal pushers, still uploading on the same subdirectory. Looked, it was only halfway down screen after screen of very large files with very long hex numbers for names. I never noticed *that* when I was making local back-ups!
So I went to bed, and it *had* finished when I got up. So I closed and re-connected (in case it had timed out while I was lying down) and uploaded the rest of the disk, which didn't take long. Partly because all the megapixel pictures are in directories that I back up on roughsewing and joybeeson. Haven't checked those yet, save to upload some pictures that I took after my latest update. I did verify that at least some of the Rough Sewing files are still on line.
High time to sort, crop, scale, caption, and link to an increasing accumulation of raw pictures.
Which reminds me that I want to take a close-up of the neck slit in the poncho shirt that I ironed today.
And I just naturally read the last line of the previous post a couple of hours after the sun set. The camera has a flash, but sunlight works better.
To my disappointment, Aunt Millie didn't have any whole-grain steak rolls. I got bagels, hamburger buns, slimwiches, and two loaves of bread. Which fit into my panniers nicely. It was a little harder to fit in the few things I picked up at Aldi shortly thereafter. The bottle of detergent was no puzzle at all: I bungeed it to the rack.
I went to Aunt Millie by way of Wooster, which Google Maps says is thirteen and a half miles. (If you got a mile less than that: I avoided the climb up Chestnut by following Park Avenue all the way to King's Highway.)
About halfway to Wooster, I realized that I could have worn cleats for this trip. There were a couple of hills where I could have used them, and I park for Aunt Millie's at the foot of a flight of steps that would be a convenient place to sit down and change shoes for the in-town part of the ride.
Had lunch at Taco Bell. I couldn't find taco salad on the menu, so I had a "five-layer burrito". Would have been better with some fresh-pulled green onions.
My onions are getting a little beyond the green-onion stage.
Just before going to bed, I copied the Agent folder from 98 to XP. It took just a few seconds longer than brushing my teeth.
Yesterday Dave got an e-mail from Comcast saying that he'll get higher speeds if he lets them send him a new modem. He ignored it. I'd have replied: "been there, done that, didn't get the T-shirt".
There are lots of weeds that need pulling, and it rained in the night so the roots should be loose, but this is not a good day for stoop labor. And the neighbors have piled up a lot of lakeweed that could be good compost, too.
Perhaps I could take just the tops off several piles, instead of bending to load all of one pile.
Or spend the day editing the pictures I've taken.
Well, I thought I'd come home from this party and pass out, but I haven't lain down yet, and it's after nine. I did sit on the front patio and read _Imperial Earth_ for a while.
Only one taker on the button-sewing, and all she took was a sewing kit, but an hour or so after we started, a child wanted embroidery lessons, and the rest of the time I was swamped. They were a really nice bunch of kids; I can supervise at most two children embroidering —I didn't teach needle threading, for example— and I had as high as four or five, but they waited very politely. Though one boy got very tangled when a moment of attention could have saved him. I hope I get to do this on purpose next year — and have a ten- or twelve-year-old assistant.
That first child was the only one to complete a medallion, but some of them took their work home. I didn't count the children, but I'm going to have to stamp some more fabric. I ran into the first child later, and she was still proudly wearing her medallion.
Only sad note is that I lost my blue hat. It was a pain riding home without it. I'm hoping that I dropped it on the floor when I thought I was putting it into my bike basket and somebody put it into the lost-and-found. It did have my name sewn inside.
I was delighted to see that a substantial fraction of the food bags were still in the ramp room when I left; can't have been a lot of hungry people among those who came. I was told that Combined Community Services will make good use of the left-overs.
I didn't look to see whether we'd gotten rid of any of the bags of sugar.
And at twenty of eleven, I still feel pretty good. I wonder how long it takes for a pint of bitter tea to wear off?
I not only didn't sleep for two days, I got up so early this morning that I had a cooked breakfast and stepped off before ten. Not a *lot* before ten, but I usually leave a little late.
The missing hat was on the serving counter in the kitchen. I presume that it was found by someone who knew that I go to the kitchen every Sunday morning.
Everyone I talked to seemed pleased with the way the Day of Sharing went, and comments on the embroidery gig suggested to me that I'll be permitted to do it again next year.
The walk back was exhausting, but that was the weather, not me. My sore knee almost didn't complain about going down Evangel hill.
I'm still a little dehydrated.
I spent all of Friday getting ready for Saturday. Saturday morning I bought a small box of small potatoes at the fairgrounds market, then chickened out of going to the downtown Farmer's Market and thereby arrived at the library before they opened. But they have a book drop for just such an emergency. I left one of the two plastic bags the book had been wrapped in on it to cushion the fall.
I skipped the extra two blocks partly because I wanted to be sure of getting home before eleven, but mostly because I felt a drop of rain and was afraid of getting my book wet. I came home by way of the boardwalk (which I don't appreciate as much as I ought to) and left a couple of magazines at the emergency room. Also stopped by Owen's to dispose of a torn plastic bag.
I got up from my nap, saw that there was plenty of time to run out for eggs. yogurt, and something for supper, dressed, got into the truck — and couldn't turn the key in the ignition. I remembered that there was a trick to it, but forgot that it was "jiggle the steering wheel".
Which was lucky — when Dave came home with four ears of sweet corn, I was all dressed with list and card still in my pocket, and there was still time to buy a choice piece of ribeye steak to go with half the corn. Dave didn't even have potato, but I ate two fingerlings.
I spent Sunday and between-loads-of-wash today doing little chores inspired by the cleanup from the embroidery — I still haven't got my backpack back in order. I spent a lot of today figuring out how to convert into a GIF file a diagram that I created with Open Office Draw yesterday. There must be some way to save a drawing in a usable form, but it shore isn't in the manual for the program.
Got up from my nap when I realized that I could move it with the clipboard. I remembered that I can convert a screenshot into a JPG by pasting it into an Open Office Writer, then saving the document as hypertext. The graphics become separate files that can be edited with Gimp. So I opened the drawing, selected all, chose "copy" from the menu, opened Writer, ctl-V, and there it was: save as, and it was in EMBGIG_F in a perfectly linkable form, as soon as I changed the mile-long name into something sensible. And here's the URL: http://roughsewing.home.comcast.net/~roughsewing/EMBGIG_F/DOTGUIDE.GIF was that worth the effort?
Three parties this week. I've got to go out for chips still — I got the dip today, and stocked up on soda when we ran out of plain fizzwater not too long ago. We have plenty of paper cups and napkins; I *think* that there is only one shopping trip required.
Thursday I devil eggs and make kow choi dip. "Kow choi" is less confusing than "garlic chives" — though I tend to say "bok choi" by mistake.
Friday is a picnic at Joe and Lois, then after the concert, everybody and his houseguest comes to watch the fireworks from our back yard.
Saturday I'm scheduled to help get ready for the church picnic, at eight in the morning (gasp!), and after that I need to ride my bike someplace to buy a bag of salad. I've decided not to show off at the picnic this year, and just dump bagged salad into a bowl and dress it with oil and vinegar, but I do want it to be as fresh as possible. I was thinking of adding some fresh herbs, but though I like lemon basil leaves in a salad, I think it might be a bit startling for a random stranger. I have some mustard leaves too, just as zingy as mustard seeds.
GAACK!! I just calculated that this is a forty-page letter.