Mohs Scale

Indication of hardness, talc is 1 and diamond is 10. Perfect cleavage is the property of a mineral to break only in a certain direction. A faulkner was a falconer, I never knew that, a duffer was a peddler, and a hacker was a maker of hoes. If it rains tomorrow I'll be reading glossaries all day. The bat scabs are beginning to erode and I talked with several people about rabies. None in the county for years except in possums and occasionally raccoons. Not a single case at the local medical center for over a decade. Good enough odds. I splinted the toe with a pop-sickle stick and tape, much less pain. If you walk flat-footed, rather than heel-and-toe, it doesn't hurt as much. Notice the way you use your big toe when walking normally. Watched a bank employee, a lovely lady, walk by in high-heels. She did it well, but it is not a normal walk, attractive, but not normal. Talking about job-description several times today, mine, for most of my life, has been --- As Needed ---. If I flush the toilet once a day at work I increase my personal water use by almost 60%. The urinal uses just 2 quarts so one flush would be only 10% increase, but I don't like these numbers and consider taking a five gallon bucket and a pail of sawdust to the museum, hiding them in a corner of the basement, doing my necessary there, bringing it home and composting it. Doesn't seem like a radical idea to me. In the "Stories Told In Stone" book, one of the glossaries, a Colporteur was a peddler of books. One of my best puns, a Cole Porter riff, based on that word several years ago and then I see the word again, updated from medieval monks to the 18th century, and I think, wow, I'm on sort of a slow-breaking wave here, the way language changes, meaning morphs, and punctuation tries to keep pace with the times. I'm all the way up to 1758, a duffer: "A Colporteur with a motley assortment of classics, we sent him packing..." from the diaries of Hermione Datson. I buy old diaries at junk shops, I've got some great ones: "Hired on to set rails, 15 cents an hour..."sold a week's butter for four dollars, bought meal and sugar..." I love this stuff, it pulls me even closer to the natural world. The driveway, with all this rain, has become a tunnel. I keep the loppers in the truck, and a rock to put under the rear tire, because sometimes I have to stop and clear a passage, so I can drive through. The forest has become a jungle. The crows parrots. That's a closely parsed sentence. I have to look at it twice myself. What I think I mean. Shit happens, things change. The way I'm looking is not the way they'll come out being, is that a problem for you, that I freely admitted I was wrong? I know I'm often wrong, I have decades of evidence. I'm wrong most of the time, but I'm occasionally correct, and that's enough, you know, to keep on keeping on. You might question my motive, but I'd kick you in the nuts and run away. I don't want to fight, I just want peace and quiet. I'm only up to 1758, cut me some slack.