I’m here in my hotel room, which is very nice, especially for the bargain rate I got. The Amtrak station nearest my home is a nice little place staffed by volunteers–retired guys (no women, and I wonder why not). One of them bought his little white terrier, who wondered around, sniffing our shoes and allowing a minute or two of therapeutic pets. 
My tummy is still crummy, and I have a headache that won’t quit. I think it’s a sinus thing. No complaints, though, especially when I think about wordy’s mom’s issues.
You’d have liked my dad–an attorney who later sat on the bench. He refused to charge more than his clients (mostly blue collar) could afford, and he was adamantly opposed to attorneys advertising. (Once upon a time, the ABA forbade it.) A man of integrity, my father, and a kindly gent.
We still loves ya, MetalMouse.
Fun fact: The “First, kill all the lawyers” line from Henry VI, which many lawyer-haters quote, was from a speech about getting tyrants into power. Shakespeare saw attorneys as necessary to prevent political evil.
Nut, also curious about bee chow. Is it pollen-based? How is the pollen harvested? (Not by bees, one assumes.) And how do you make it available to the bees, since they normally find it in flowers? And fingers crossed for the job!
Wheelie, always happy to see you here. You seem like a very genial person, and who doesn’t love someone who works at a zoo?
Apparently they’re earning their name.
I brought a sandwich with me for dinner, which is good because the room service prices are unreal. I’m thinking of treating myself to a bowl of Second Mortgage Soup (actually, it’s called clam chowder), though, because it sounds like something my tummy would appreciate.
Good luck with the job!
Perhaps I should have said adulting clothing. Better?
