Lucy turned six years old yesterday!

I don't know about you, but that prodded me into nagging Lyman to finally produce a will for me.

I do, in this marriage, legally hold some immoveable property which would pass to my brothers and sister and their offspring were I not to channel it back to the rightful heirs, my stepsons.

Let me live through the night to gather some witnesses.

This letter was published June 15, 2007, in the Natchez Democrat.

This obituary note was published today, July 14.

She was my sweet lady doctor.

My father-in-law told me of this yesterday. He was not clear on cause of death, but heard that she contracted an uncontrollable infection.

She's She was just about my age. My father-in-law commented, "God is no respecter of persons."

UPDATE: Here is a story.

UPDATE II: An updated obituary here.

I flicked down the visor on my side of the car to check my makeup, and said, "Ooooh."

That mirror at that angle would be perfect for plucking eyebrows. As it was, it showed the ones I missed.

Do you think my brother will let me come sit in his Infiniti to pluck my brows?

It's not as though it would break his starch or anything.

That is one boring drive. It might have been better had I been driving, but not by much. Charles is himself much better now, with the occasional relapse, as he had a couple of weekends ago -- with the fever and the beat-up feeling.

Jackson is about two hours away. It has all the popular stores, and local establishments, too. But after two hours of flatlands, who cares?

Sick people are dragged up and down that road all the time. Jackson has the hospitals and specialists, too.

New Orleans is farther -- 2-1/2 hours -- but the drive seems easier. Of course, in that direction one will eventually arrive in New Orleans.

I'm going to Jackson.

Goodbye.

Dr. Alice has a post up about the difficulties doctors face when asked to sign death certificates.

A few months back, she had a series of posts about a medical mission to Guatamala.

Today is Possum's birthday!

This is as good a time as any to point to this post from Sean Kinsell.

Chris takes dozens of good photographs, but I like the last one in this series.

And just an aside: I was about 25 when I had my ears pierced. When it was done I had to sit in the mall with my head between my knees. I was mutilated!

How do you keep a silly boy from going bonk when he plays so hard that he is that unbalanced?

Look at those flight feathers.

Fred Thompson's wife, Jeri Kehn, has been drawing comment. She's a smart, accomplished, good-looking blonde of forty.

But, by gosh, that blue dress is as tacky as can be. No one of any age or build is going to look classy in that dress. It might be appropriate for Lucinda Faberge (see comments).

Frederick's of Hollywood doesn't come close.

Here's my challenge to you. Find a source for a dress that sleazy looking.

(Thanks, Irrational Woman, for the images.)

And as the load spun there arose such a clatter,
That I rose from my chair to see what was the matter,
And after it quit, and the water had cleared,
And the dryer was running, I said what have we here?

It was a roofing nail poking through one of the drain holes in the washing machine tub. Had it not been raining, the repairman would have been on his way. He thinks there's no harm done.

This ring would be a fair replacement for the lost band. I think I pulled it off my finger gummed up with mastic in a paper towel and set it aside. Then forgot the ring was in the towel and whisked it all into the trash.

I went to the mall. Zales has a white-gold replacement for $250. I don't think so. But I did use the ring sizers on my finger. I wear a 4-1/2.

I've a couple more places to check before ordering online.

UPDATE: No, it's a four. And the nice man at Reynolds' Jewelry has ordered one for me.

Finished "project" here.

I lost my wedding band.

Duct mastic is a soft material about the consistency of cream-cheese frosting fresh, and it dries to the consistency of gum on the sidewalk or thereabouts.

I must have taken the ring along with mastic when I was cleaning my hands with paper towels.

It's no material loss. It was a silver band from the French Market in New Orleans that cost $5. But I feel right nekkid.

Now I'm ready to extend heartiest congratulations to Mrs. Schranck for earning her Ph.D.

Meaning no disrespect, Ma'am, but she ain't a spring chicken either.

Finished! I'll let it cure overnight and take a picture tomorrow.

Believe me, it's not pretty.

See that flap of backing up there? It has to go before I do anything further. It's at about fingertip height as I stretch above that crossbrace. (Lyman made the cut in the duct board and I won't be thanking him for it anytime soon. My fault, too. When I measured the cut in the board, I could have allowed a good three more inches for the top piece, and been working lower here at the bottom. I forgot about the cursed brace. Well, I'll know next time. Ha, ha, ha.)

And that damnable crossbrace. The vent opening is not framed well, which will entail building some little walls of duct board right around the mouth of the vent. This might be the only crummy detail in an otherwise very well-built house. And I want my Daddy.

Astrologically, I am an Aquarian with Virgo rising, so I read both horoscopes, when I read them at all.

It reads for Virgo today: Occasionally, we all have to perform some tasks or assignments we find distasteful, and today may be just one of those days for you. If you smile instead of frown, it'll make it easier.

They have my number today. I'll show you in a few minutes.

That's the progress so far. This afternoon, I'm going to seal those upper edges and seams with mastic. Then I can do away with the turkey pot.

Finishing that open wall can be done standing sitting on the ground.

UPDATE: That part is done. Do I get an "honorary lizard" badge or something?