The enthusiasm of massed pre-schoolers is one of the happiest noises on Earth. The silence afterwards is one of the other happiest noises on Earth. It’s amazing how much energy it costs a gray hair just standing still amidst the chaos. What’s up with that?
Those two sentences don’t seem to go together. But congrats on pupper housebreaking, whether still in-progress or complete. I bet all the hijinks are adorable. I expect neither of you are taking any pictures. Naah, who’d do something like take pictures of cute puppers? 
Depending on where you live, that may be illegal. If it stinks, it may be hazardous waste. Not sure how much you want to involve officialdom, but in at least some jurisdictions they can be real bulldogs about driving problem neighbors out of town.
Hard to say. The present long range guestimates are pretty neutral. They readily admit that at this time of year their skill isn’t so great:
https://www.noaa.gov/news-release/2023-atlantic-hurricane-season-outlook
When I lived in snow country with frequent ice storms (~10-30 years ago) I just loved the days I was office-irking from home but nearly nobody else could. Or the weekdays I wasn’t flying and was just at home w a brandy, a wonderful woman, and a fireplace.
“Neener neener!” was one of my favorite refrains. I may be polite in public, but I’m a jerk on the inside. 
I hope you’ve communicating back to the author. In private if not as feedback on their sales site.
My late first wife was a big-time knitter and screwed-up patterns would really light her fire. She mostly worked from pro published books and her own raw knowledge, rarely from cottage industry homebrew patterns, but when she found problems she was not shy about sharing her findings with the author. In a helpful way, not a scornful one.
Anyone who can home-brew up a complete multi-pattern cable-knit sweater by eye with nary a note is a force to be reckoned with. Gosh, I miss who she used to be.
When I was a kid Mom frequently made us sandwiches using canned Underwood Deviled Ham. Which I’ve seen sitting on the store shelves for the intervening 50 years. Usually while buying the canned tuna I actually eat. Haven’t eaten any UDH since Mom stopped making my lunch for school.
Earlier this year I noticed the stuff again, and it was on sale. So I bought 2 cans on a lark. Made up the can roughly as I’d recalled Mom doing, mayo, a bit of onion salt, etc. Just. Barely. Edible. It wasn’t tasty, it wasn’t nostalgic, it didn’t feel nutritious; best I could tell it wasn’t really even food.
There is very little food so awful I’ll throw it away. The second can of Underwood Deviled Ham went out unopened. Gosh knows how badly they’ve encheapened and enshittified the recipe over 50 years vs. my vague nostalgic memories. But the end result is not fit for man, nor probably for beast.
Great story about Dad. Every celebration of life should have a bunch of laughter.
Not much to add, except to 3rd (or is it 6th?) the motion. I don’t know the deep history of how this got this way, nor what limitations your son has from Fate, through no fault of you or he.
Every aging parent of a less-than-highly-capable semi-dependent child gets to the place where the inviolate facts of chronology and human lifespan can no longer be denied. The sooner you start grasping this painful nettle the better the end state will be for him after you can no longer be his crutch, and instead he needs to be yours. Until the all too soon time a bit later when you’re beyond needing or helping.
It’s an act of love for both of you to work on this joint journey before it’s a crisis. After a crisis it’ll be too late and you both will suffer more than was necessary.
This journey of many miles begins with a single step. You both must make the journey, like it or not, so IMO now is a good time to start stepping. Best of luck and {{hugs}} to you both.
Agree w that sentiment. And FCM’s suggestion about being immoral too. I don’t much mind the idea of dying as long as it’s not today. I’ll think the same tomorrow.
It’s the potential decrepitude that harshes my mellow. See also
I have no clue, but a search on google and on YouTube with the model number of your TV will often answer these sorts of questions.
You’ll also find that doing this troubleshooting in the morning, not late at night after a full day of kidlets & boat repairs will produce better results. It’s almost like the techno-gremlins come out at night whereas the Good Fairies of techno-magic are solar-powered. Don’t ask me how many late night failure sessions it took for me to learn this truism. But pretty much everybody in IT lives by it.
Most excellent. My usual experience when the train service is truncated is that it ends a couple stops short of home. Oh bother.
That’s beautiful. I think I’ll toast Sister Mary Corona with every Mexican beer from now on too. 
As to me:
Been up about 3 hours now, mostly on the balcony. Coffee went down nicely. Congestion unfortunately remains unabated. A pretty warm & sunny day out there with some showers over the sparkly ocean. Welcome to June.
I did make not-coffee this morning and also yesterday (or was it the day before?) Caught both SNAFUs early before any real harm was done or mess needed clean-up. But still. Of course the underlying cause was thinking about something unrelated, mostly the Dope. Sigh.
Her Ladyship is now up & sheveling. She was maybe feeling a bit ill last night and is maybe a little more ill this morning. Or maybe not; too early to tell. Same symptoms as me. She is one of those people who’s not really awake until after an hour reading in bed then another hour upright. Then finally all cylinders are firing. So right now her early returns are ambiguous. Me? I’m a light switch.
I shall post this, then shevel, then co-feeding shall be next. She has a lunch date w a gaggle of sorority pals and is so far inclined to go. We shall see how her health shakes out.