<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221570114928329627</id><updated>2012-02-16T01:24:29.982-05:00</updated><title type='text'>TBD</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Rick R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00764979275381950651</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>40</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221570114928329627.post-7074281578229854634</id><published>2011-09-07T20:00:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-07T20:03:23.401-04:00</updated><title type='text'>2011 Summer Reading</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;America America by Ethan Canin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;The Doomsday Key by James Rollins&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;The Last Summer (of You &amp;amp; Me) ** by Ann Brashares&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;The Painter of Battles by Arturo Perez-Reverte&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;Return to Sullivans Island by Dorothea Benton Frank&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;Shannon by Frank Delaney&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;Sun Going Down ** by Jack Todd&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;206 Bones by Kathy Reichs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;** recommended&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4221570114928329627-7074281578229854634?l=auctorial.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/feeds/7074281578229854634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4221570114928329627&amp;postID=7074281578229854634&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/7074281578229854634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/7074281578229854634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/2011/09/2011-summer-reading.html' title='2011 Summer Reading'/><author><name>Rick R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00764979275381950651</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221570114928329627.post-6122218408030687491</id><published>2011-08-28T15:36:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-28T15:57:46.280-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Goodnight Irene</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qLesd3oNtP0/Tlqbqh3IpsI/AAAAAAAAAJU/drolhChicnU/s320/100_3305.jpg" style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645996237808772802" /&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mWILUSS9aLw/TlqbgeX0tXI/AAAAAAAAAJM/zwr-Uszav6k/s320/100_3307.jpg" style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645996065073444210" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jc0bfLQ5-nM/Tlqa0hg4TqI/AAAAAAAAAI8/M4GJCClxYWI/s320/100_3296.jpg" style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645995310002491042" /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gwSMzjZJ4u0/Tlqa8db6KAI/AAAAAAAAAJE/SzqZfgeMiqg/s1600/100_3308.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gwSMzjZJ4u0/Tlqa8db6KAI/AAAAAAAAAJE/SzqZfgeMiqg/s320/100_3308.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645995446346852354" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Rl_cJnzR09A/TlqaeZk5CVI/AAAAAAAAAI0/gGS3Y9KEadI/s1600/100_3298.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Rl_cJnzR09A/TlqaeZk5CVI/AAAAAAAAAI0/gGS3Y9KEadI/s320/100_3298.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645994929914710354" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1xf0CJuxKXE/TlqaYk_EOaI/AAAAAAAAAIs/4A2i41WbN-0/s1600/100_3300.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1xf0CJuxKXE/TlqaYk_EOaI/AAAAAAAAAIs/4A2i41WbN-0/s320/100_3300.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645994829898070434" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;With apologies to Messrs. Ledbetter and Lomax.  Didn't get much sleep during the night due to the heavy rain.  A little before 4, I began washing dishes, and at 4:10 there was a huge crash. It would have been louder if my windows weren't all super-sealed. There was minimal damage to my fence, but my neighbor had some major damage to his roof and side.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tree guys came and I was curious as to how they were going to get the tree off of the house.  But all they did for the five hours was trim all the small stuff.  And that was impressive on its own since the day still presented huge gusts of wind that I was sure were going to bring down another tree.  Maybe they'll be back tomorrow with larger equipment.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Elsewhere, the power never went off, the Cable/Internet just came back on after about 12 hours, and there was some water in the basement.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4221570114928329627-6122218408030687491?l=auctorial.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/feeds/6122218408030687491/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4221570114928329627&amp;postID=6122218408030687491&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/6122218408030687491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/6122218408030687491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/2011/08/goodnight-irene.html' title='Goodnight Irene'/><author><name>Rick R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00764979275381950651</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qLesd3oNtP0/Tlqbqh3IpsI/AAAAAAAAAJU/drolhChicnU/s72-c/100_3305.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221570114928329627.post-1003743902243913790</id><published>2011-07-26T08:43:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-26T09:10:10.308-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Amy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NClLJaT6WIo/Ti66ag_tGhI/AAAAAAAAAIk/8I5a5PeLiSY/s1600/amy%2Bw.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NClLJaT6WIo/Ti66ag_tGhI/AAAAAAAAAIk/8I5a5PeLiSY/s320/amy%2Bw.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633645148583565842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;Four summers ago, I was channel surfing one night as I always do and I happened to stop on Channel 25, WNYE, a New York City public television station.  They were showing a small club concert featuring a female singer I had never seen nor heard of.  It was Amy Winehouse.  She was an English singer with long black hair including a large bee-hive.  She had back-up singers and a good sized band including a brass section! But it was the sound that caught my attention--it was refreshingly new.  It was a fusion of soul, blues, and a little bit of 60's pop.  When the show was over, I went to youtube and watched several other performances by Ms. Winehouse.  I found out that she had two released albums, but I didn't know that she was a Grammy winner.  I then went to Amazon.com and purchased her second album, "Back To Black".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;Just a few weeks after receiving the CD, the first of many scandalous stories about Amy and her drinking and drug-related behavior hit the media.  The stories continued for a few years, each one detailing her continued downfall from musical prominence.  I always wondered if she would be able to pull herself out of her dark hole and produce another album comparable to "Back To Black".  Unfortunately she would not and she died this past Saturday at the young age of 27. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4221570114928329627-1003743902243913790?l=auctorial.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/feeds/1003743902243913790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4221570114928329627&amp;postID=1003743902243913790&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/1003743902243913790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/1003743902243913790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/2011/07/amy.html' title='Amy'/><author><name>Rick R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00764979275381950651</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NClLJaT6WIo/Ti66ag_tGhI/AAAAAAAAAIk/8I5a5PeLiSY/s72-c/amy%2Bw.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221570114928329627.post-6313376940963726708</id><published>2011-02-01T20:37:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-02T05:48:19.293-05:00</updated><title type='text'>No Gold Watch</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/TUi26t7CMKI/AAAAAAAAAIY/Ys-yhzO-6fE/s1600/gold-watch.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 290px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/TUi26t7CMKI/AAAAAAAAAIY/Ys-yhzO-6fE/s320/gold-watch.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5568902059119489186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;In October, 2002, while working at Prudential, I was told that the jobs in my systems area would be going overseas to India (you wonder why I don't watch the show &lt;i&gt;OUTSOURCED&lt;/i&gt;).  At the time I had 19 years with the company and they were nice enough to "bridge" my years of service to 20.  When I turned 55, I became eligible to collect a pension, and I finally decided to do so this winter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Today, on February 1st, my first pension check was direct-deposited into my banking account.  It feels good to be retired, even though I'll still be working 50-60 hours a week as a teacher/coach at my high school.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4221570114928329627-6313376940963726708?l=auctorial.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/feeds/6313376940963726708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4221570114928329627&amp;postID=6313376940963726708&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/6313376940963726708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/6313376940963726708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/2011/02/no-gold-watch.html' title='No Gold Watch'/><author><name>Rick R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00764979275381950651</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/TUi26t7CMKI/AAAAAAAAAIY/Ys-yhzO-6fE/s72-c/gold-watch.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221570114928329627.post-5812179273715729686</id><published>2010-10-23T10:04:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-23T10:06:01.979-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sad Days....Happy Days</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;Tom Bosley, the New York Yankees, respectively.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4221570114928329627-5812179273715729686?l=auctorial.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/feeds/5812179273715729686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4221570114928329627&amp;postID=5812179273715729686&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/5812179273715729686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/5812179273715729686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/2010/10/sad-dayshappy-days.html' title='Sad Days....Happy Days'/><author><name>Rick R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00764979275381950651</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221570114928329627.post-2742460445276690348</id><published>2010-10-18T19:30:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-18T19:38:22.788-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sure Enough</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I drove past the intersection in N-City where my picture was taken and ticket issued.  Sure enough there was a camera there.  And not the small kind that's elevated high above the road.  It was mounted on a small pole on the sidewalk.  And to top it all off, there was a sign next to the camera that said:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;RED LIGHT PHOTO ENFORCED&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4221570114928329627-2742460445276690348?l=auctorial.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/feeds/2742460445276690348/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4221570114928329627&amp;postID=2742460445276690348&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/2742460445276690348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/2742460445276690348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/2010/10/sure-enough.html' title='Sure Enough'/><author><name>Rick R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00764979275381950651</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221570114928329627.post-1893006752451844139</id><published>2010-10-12T20:33:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-13T07:17:39.525-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Caught!!  But still pretty cool.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/TLUCgNeEWdI/AAAAAAAAAII/v3FW4KxmThY/s1600/Red+Light.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 234px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/TLUCgNeEWdI/AAAAAAAAAII/v3FW4KxmThY/s320/Red+Light.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527326870061996498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I got a letter in the mail today from the Newark Police Department.  They had caught me running a red light and had mailed me a ticket.  The proof was in three photos and a video.  Pretty cool.  Like watching Youtube.  The pictures were good too.  I'll show the pics and the video to my one blog reader when I next see him.  Looking at the info on the ticket, I determined that it happened on the way to Cross Country practice in northern Newark.  I was only going 25 miles an hour but running a red light is still a no-no.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Another cool thing is that I can pay either in person, by mail, or online.  Gotta love this new technology!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4221570114928329627-1893006752451844139?l=auctorial.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/feeds/1893006752451844139/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4221570114928329627&amp;postID=1893006752451844139&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/1893006752451844139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/1893006752451844139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/2010/10/caught-but-still-pretty-cool.html' title='Caught!!  But still pretty cool.'/><author><name>Rick R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00764979275381950651</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/TLUCgNeEWdI/AAAAAAAAAII/v3FW4KxmThY/s72-c/Red+Light.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221570114928329627.post-4475392421349929088</id><published>2010-09-09T19:08:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-09T19:17:17.372-04:00</updated><title type='text'>4th Annual Summer Reading List</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I didn't post the list on Labor Day as in the past because I wanted to finish one last book in order to pass it along to a family member.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:placename st="on"&gt;Bone&lt;/st1:placename&gt; &lt;st1:placetype st="on"&gt;Garden&lt;/st1:placetype&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; **  by  Tess Gerritsen&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:placename st="on"&gt;Buckingham&lt;/st1:placename&gt; &lt;st1:placetype st="on"&gt;Palace&lt;/st1:placetype&gt;  &lt;st1:placetype st="on"&gt;Gardens  by  &lt;/st1:placetype&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;Anne Perry&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The Clinic  by  Jonathan Kellerman&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The Cure For Modern Life  by  Lisa Tucker&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The Day The Falls Stood Still **  by  Cathy Marie Buchanan&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The Film Club **  by  David Gilmour&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Floaters  by  Joseph Wambaugh&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The Girl Who Played With Fire  **  by  Stieg Larsson&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo **  by  Stieg Larsson&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Lavender Morning  by  Jude Deveraux&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;March **  by  Geraldine Brooks&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Oxygen  by  Carol Cassella&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The Road  by  Cormac McCarthy&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', sans-serif; font-size: 13px; color: rgb(41, 48, 59); "&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;** denotes that it was a good read&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;As always, these books are available to others to borrow, to keep, whatever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4221570114928329627-4475392421349929088?l=auctorial.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/feeds/4475392421349929088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4221570114928329627&amp;postID=4475392421349929088&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/4475392421349929088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/4475392421349929088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/2010/09/4th-annual-summer-reading-list.html' title='4th Annual Summer Reading List'/><author><name>Rick R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00764979275381950651</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221570114928329627.post-293994150918354915</id><published>2010-09-05T20:15:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-05T20:17:18.343-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I Go Crazy Every Year</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/TIQy6BPkBvI/AAAAAAAAAH4/0BULx1tc5vc/s1600/100_1693.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/TIQy6BPkBvI/AAAAAAAAAH4/0BULx1tc5vc/s320/100_1693.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513587816155842290" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now let's see, if I eat a tomato every 27 minutes....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4221570114928329627-293994150918354915?l=auctorial.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/feeds/293994150918354915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4221570114928329627&amp;postID=293994150918354915&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/293994150918354915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/293994150918354915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/2010/09/i-go-crazy-every-year.html' title='I Go Crazy Every Year'/><author><name>Rick R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00764979275381950651</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/TIQy6BPkBvI/AAAAAAAAAH4/0BULx1tc5vc/s72-c/100_1693.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221570114928329627.post-5383500469135411182</id><published>2010-09-01T20:23:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-02T09:03:04.875-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sad but true.  It's over.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;On the heels of the Tiger Woods divorce comes another major break-up in today’s world.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;In the language of “Brangelina”, “Ric-king” or “Bur-rick” has suffered a split.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;For those who still don’t understand the components involved, the bond between Rick R and Burger King is no more.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;For well over 30 years, some say close to 40, Rick has enjoyed spending his breakfast meal at Burger King Restaurants.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;For all those years, he AT LEAST spent one morning a week at a BK.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;During the summer breaks the number of visits would sometimes swell to 3 or 4.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Why the break-up?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;“I’ve had it with them” said Rick R to a reporter.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;“I’ve spent a large part of my life going to BK as well as a large amount of my earnings”.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;When pressed for a clearer explanation, Mr. R. continued, “For 30 to 40 years, I have loved spending my mornings at BK, eating breakfast, reading the Daily News, and enjoying their great coffee, especially the second cup.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But now two weeks ago they go and replace the Maxwell House blend with some crap from &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Seattle&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt;.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It tastes like garbage.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But the straw that broke the camel’s back with me was that they took away the re-fills.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The self-serve coffee machines had been removed from the dining area”.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Mr. R went on to explain that he thought maybe it was a fluke with just this one BK Restaurant.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But breakfast a few days later at another location resulted in the same absence of re-fills.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Visits to a third and fourth restaurant settled it for Mr. R.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;“That’s it.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We’re thru.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I’m never going back.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This is the way they reward my 30 plus years of loyalty?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It’s disgraceful”.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;This was not the first time that the bond of “Ric-king” had become strained.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;In the 90s, when BK discontinued their Breakfast Platter meal, Mr. R stopped going for breakfast for about five months.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But he came back.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;“The coffee was good, and I could have a second cup.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I had to go back”.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Calls to the Burger King Corporation were not returned.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4221570114928329627-5383500469135411182?l=auctorial.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/feeds/5383500469135411182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4221570114928329627&amp;postID=5383500469135411182&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/5383500469135411182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/5383500469135411182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/2010/09/sad-but-true-its-over.html' title='Sad but true.  It&apos;s over.'/><author><name>Rick R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00764979275381950651</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221570114928329627.post-4333072830002472552</id><published>2010-04-11T14:59:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-11T15:07:04.575-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Gross and Bizarre</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/S8IdisR8-JI/AAAAAAAAAHo/-y6_SAXbPQA/s1600/100_0828.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/S8IdisR8-JI/AAAAAAAAAHo/-y6_SAXbPQA/s320/100_0828.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458958180165679250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/S8IdiASabeI/AAAAAAAAAHg/-cif-d3nMbg/s1600/100_0827.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/S8IdiASabeI/AAAAAAAAAHg/-cif-d3nMbg/s320/100_0827.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458958168356449762" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;Back in mid-January, as the assistant basketball coach for my school's girls' basketball team, I was helping out with a drill.  As I attempted to deflect a bounce pass, the ball hit my thumb directly straight on, causing the nail to push back into the thumb.  The pain was unbelievable.  The throbbing over the next couple of days was even worse, causing sleepless nights.  The throbbing was so bad that our head coach suggested that I drill a small hole into the nail to drain the blood and relieve the throbbing.  I can seriously say that I came thiscloseto doing it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-size:medium;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;Anyway it has taken almost three months for the thumb to start to move towards normalcy.  I originally thought that the new nail would simply push the old one out.  But today, as I was playing around with it, I noticed that the back part of the bloodied nail had started to rot and had come loose.  So I was able to cut away the back of the nail but found that the front was still attached to the the skin.  And there underneath the bad nail was a new nail ready to pop up.  Pretty cool.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4221570114928329627-4333072830002472552?l=auctorial.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/feeds/4333072830002472552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4221570114928329627&amp;postID=4333072830002472552&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/4333072830002472552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/4333072830002472552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/2010/04/gross-and-bizarre.html' title='Gross and Bizarre'/><author><name>Rick R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00764979275381950651</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/S8IdisR8-JI/AAAAAAAAAHo/-y6_SAXbPQA/s72-c/100_0828.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221570114928329627.post-4669534637541539395</id><published>2010-02-25T12:52:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-25T12:54:08.918-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Storm - and almost as perfect</title><content type='html'>Early dismissal today.  No school tomorrow.  3 1/2 day weekend.  Yippee!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4221570114928329627-4669534637541539395?l=auctorial.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/feeds/4669534637541539395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4221570114928329627&amp;postID=4669534637541539395&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/4669534637541539395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/4669534637541539395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/2010/02/another-storm-and-almost-as-perfect.html' title='Another Storm - and almost as perfect'/><author><name>Rick R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00764979275381950651</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221570114928329627.post-7331793343487986492</id><published>2010-02-11T10:11:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-11T10:19:22.263-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Perfect Storm</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/S3Qf1PibCbI/AAAAAAAAAHY/b7gJQEN1Oso/s1600-h/snow+scene.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 207px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/S3Qf1PibCbI/AAAAAAAAAHY/b7gJQEN1Oso/s320/snow+scene.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437005649707469234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unlike last Saturday's storm, all of New Jersey was aware that they were going to get hit with a major blizzard on Wednesday.  As a result, my school announced during classes on Tuesday that the school would be closed on Wednesday.  And snow it did!  12-18 inches fell on northern New Jersey.  Three times I had to go over my driveway with my trusty snow-blower (thanks again Dave).  Now because my school is in the city of Elizabeth, it takes forever to clear all of the roads and sidewalks.  As a result, Thursday has also been cancelled.  Fridays are only half days, so the principal decided it wasn't worth opening for just four hours.  Monday is a holiday.  Result?  A SIX DAY WEEKEND!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4221570114928329627-7331793343487986492?l=auctorial.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/feeds/7331793343487986492/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4221570114928329627&amp;postID=7331793343487986492&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/7331793343487986492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/7331793343487986492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/2010/02/perfect-storm.html' title='The Perfect Storm'/><author><name>Rick R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00764979275381950651</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/S3Qf1PibCbI/AAAAAAAAAHY/b7gJQEN1Oso/s72-c/snow+scene.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221570114928329627.post-5526026871251844627</id><published>2009-11-15T17:39:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-15T17:50:58.014-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Farewell, Old Friend</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/SwCFhwxVYWI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/pYlRWJsgW7Q/s1600-h/100_0817.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/SwCFhwxVYWI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/pYlRWJsgW7Q/s320/100_0817.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404466367918596450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He came to me a few years ago in a small box in the mail.  It was a promotional offer to try the new Gillette Fusion.  I had always been happy with my little blue Gillette plastic throw-aways with their twin blades, but the new Fusion had FIVE blades.  I threw it in the cabinet under the sink anyway.&lt;div&gt;Then this past summer as my supply of little blues was almost gone, I decided to open up the Fusion and give it a try.  I wish I could remember the exact day that I did so.  It must have been in July because I don't remember taking it to Wellsboro in June.  Anyway, two blades had nothing on five.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And everyday, that Fusion did a bang up job on keeping my face smooth as silk.  But now four months later, the efficiency of the Fusion had finally run its course.  It was time to go back to the plastic blues.  Farewell, Old Friend, and Thank You for so many great shaves.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(This is NOT a hint for a Christmas Gift of Fusions!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4221570114928329627-5526026871251844627?l=auctorial.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/feeds/5526026871251844627/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4221570114928329627&amp;postID=5526026871251844627&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/5526026871251844627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/5526026871251844627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/2009/11/farewell-old-friend.html' title='Farewell, Old Friend'/><author><name>Rick R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00764979275381950651</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/SwCFhwxVYWI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/pYlRWJsgW7Q/s72-c/100_0817.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221570114928329627.post-4360465172113286583</id><published>2009-11-04T23:24:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-04T23:54:35.086-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Worst Days of My Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/SvJWHA-lNMI/AAAAAAAAAHI/XBMW8VCPyYY/s1600-h/depression-from-defence-magazine.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 233px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/SvJWHA-lNMI/AAAAAAAAAHI/XBMW8VCPyYY/s320/depression-from-defence-magazine.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400473581692204226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;October 16, 1962&lt;div&gt;October 13, 1973&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;April 20, 1975&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;May 30, 1975&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;June 15, 1977&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;October 18, 1977&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;October 17, 1978&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;January 4, 1980&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;January 5, 1988&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;October 26, 1996&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;October 21, 1998&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;October 27, 1999&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;May 6, 2000&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;October 26, 2000&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;September 3, 2002&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;May 10, 2007&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And now....November 4, 2009&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4221570114928329627-4360465172113286583?l=auctorial.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/feeds/4360465172113286583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4221570114928329627&amp;postID=4360465172113286583&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/4360465172113286583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/4360465172113286583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/2009/11/worst-days-of-my-life.html' title='The Worst Days of My Life'/><author><name>Rick R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00764979275381950651</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/SvJWHA-lNMI/AAAAAAAAAHI/XBMW8VCPyYY/s72-c/depression-from-defence-magazine.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221570114928329627.post-8922186617607679897</id><published>2009-09-09T17:34:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T17:39:06.275-04:00</updated><title type='text'>3rd Annual Summer Reading List</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;American Lion by Jon Meacham&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Before I Wake * by Robert Wiersema&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bones To Ashes * by Kathy Reichs&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Goldengrove * by Francine Prose&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Good Grief * by Lolly Winston&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lake News * by Barbara Delinsky&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A Little Bit Ruined by Patty Friedmann&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Low Country by Anne Rivers Siddons&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Night Watch by Sarah Waters&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Self-Defense by Jonathan Kellerman&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Stalin's Ghost by Martin Cruz Smith&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Can't believe that I've had this blog that long.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;* denotes that it was a good read&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As always, these books are available to others to borrow, to keep, whatever.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4221570114928329627-8922186617607679897?l=auctorial.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/feeds/8922186617607679897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4221570114928329627&amp;postID=8922186617607679897&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/8922186617607679897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/8922186617607679897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/2009/09/3rd-annual-summer-reading-list.html' title='3rd Annual Summer Reading List'/><author><name>Rick R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00764979275381950651</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221570114928329627.post-405419153424656522</id><published>2009-09-08T18:59:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-08T19:16:45.072-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer Review</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;FAMILY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;   Hi - Got to spend a few days with the Illinois side of the family in Wellsboro, Pennsylvania.  Also spent some time helping out my niece and her husband painting a lot of rooms in their new extension.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;   Low - None&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;HEALTHCARE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;   Hi - Now that I'm at that age, the summer was spent taking care of some needed procedures as well as a chipped tooth at the dentist's.  The "backdoor" procedure was clean as a whistle and the "frontdoor" one revealed only a minor blip that is being monitored.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; "&gt;   Low - The total cost of everything was astronomical.  Obama and Congress better clean up health care costs and strengthen insurance plans or else I will be looking for a summer job from now on to offset costs.  Now I know why mothers always want their daughters to marry doctors.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; "&gt;GARDEN/WEATHER&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; "&gt;   Hi - The weather this summer was very pleasant albeit a bit rainy.  There were very few 90+ and humid days.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; "&gt;   Low - The lack of sun and overabundance of rain resulted in a disappointing crop.  Tomatoes were late and pepper and eggplant plants took forever to reach full maturity.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; "&gt;CAR&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; "&gt;   Hi - My Toyota reached its four year anniversary in early August.  It had 61,370 miles and it still runs good.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; "&gt;   Low - I took it in for a 60,000 miles check-up.  The majority of the work was the brakes and the majority of the bill was the labor.  If your daughters can't find a doctor or a lawyer, then marry a mechanic.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; "&gt;RUNNING/COACHING&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; "&gt;   Hi - I finally got my running stamina up to about 3+ miles a day at a good pace.  The good groove was an impetus for a better diet and some weight loss.  I also ran in my first race in about 14 years.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; "&gt;   Low - There will be no coaching Cross Country this fall.  And the chronic aches and pains of old age along with sore hammys resulted in many lost days of running.  Lost days were followed by runner's depression, weight gain, and more trips to Burger World for fat-boy breakfasts.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; "&gt;SPORTS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; "&gt;   Hi - Watching the IAAF World Championships (Track &amp;amp; Field) in Berlin for a whole week.  It was like watching nine days of the Olympics without every other lame event or sappy "up-close-and-personal" stories.  It was just plain old running and nothing else.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; "&gt;   Low - The return of Yankee dominance in the major leagues.  They currently have the best record in baseball.  Who will stop them?  Please, someone!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4221570114928329627-405419153424656522?l=auctorial.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/feeds/405419153424656522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4221570114928329627&amp;postID=405419153424656522&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/405419153424656522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/405419153424656522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/2009/09/summer-review_08.html' title='Summer Review'/><author><name>Rick R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00764979275381950651</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221570114928329627.post-6889848345870341213</id><published>2009-07-14T17:36:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-14T17:51:42.990-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It Puts The Lotion On Its Skin</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/Slz9K2q3_0I/AAAAAAAAAGg/UVY17G0YxTM/s1600-h/Puts+the+Lotion+on.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358436019579912002" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 173px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/Slz9K2q3_0I/AAAAAAAAAGg/UVY17G0YxTM/s320/Puts+the+Lotion+on.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;My town is revaluing all of the properties due to an order from the county Board of Taxation. So a person from an appraisal company stopped by today to perform the task. Basically all she did was check off what rooms were in the house and where the unfinished sections were. She was literally in and out in five minutes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;After she left I wondered if she actually was looking at my house. After all I had spent two weeks cleaning it in preparation for this appraisal!!! I could have had "666" written on my bedroom wall in red paint and she wouldn't have noticed. I wonder if she worked in Ohio and had to stop by Jame Gumb's house how that appraisal would have gone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;"Okay. One kitchen. One door to a back room here. Long hallway with attached rooms. One pit. One girl in the pit."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Well, at least I have a clean house now. And I also found out that "Buffalo Bill" has appeared in &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;MONK&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; as Captain Stottlemeyer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4221570114928329627-6889848345870341213?l=auctorial.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/feeds/6889848345870341213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4221570114928329627&amp;postID=6889848345870341213&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/6889848345870341213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/6889848345870341213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/2009/07/it-puts-lotion-on-its-skin.html' title='It Puts The Lotion On Its Skin'/><author><name>Rick R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00764979275381950651</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/Slz9K2q3_0I/AAAAAAAAAGg/UVY17G0YxTM/s72-c/Puts+the+Lotion+on.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221570114928329627.post-2841302281037477279</id><published>2009-07-13T18:14:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-13T18:19:19.047-04:00</updated><title type='text'>How?? - Part 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;On March 17, I told you about how I found a starling in my kitchen when coming home from school one day.  Well, yesterday I was moving a sofa in the finished section of my basement and there on the floor was a dead sparrow.  There was no odor nor any decomp.  It's hard to say when the TOD was because my town doesn't have a notable coroner nor a crime scene unit.  I took the little guy and deposited him in the garbage and like before wondered how he got into the house.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4221570114928329627-2841302281037477279?l=auctorial.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/feeds/2841302281037477279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4221570114928329627&amp;postID=2841302281037477279&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/2841302281037477279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/2841302281037477279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/2009/07/how-part-2.html' title='How?? - Part 2'/><author><name>Rick R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00764979275381950651</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221570114928329627.post-977426448037055644</id><published>2009-07-07T12:26:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-07T12:34:38.563-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Half and Half</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/SlN4YPZ4rcI/AAAAAAAAAGY/t4b8OG6PPhg/s1600-h/Hayward_Calif_Jersey_Crown_Dairy_Half_%26_Half.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355756739720949186" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 318px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/SlN4YPZ4rcI/AAAAAAAAAGY/t4b8OG6PPhg/s320/Hayward_Calif_Jersey_Crown_Dairy_Half_%26_Half.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;No, this posting is not about the coffee additive. I still take my coffee (and tea) black and sweet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;This posting is about mortgages. In the life of a homeowner there are three important milestones when it comes to the mortgage. The first is the satisfaction that comes when you have been approved for one. There is also euphoria when the last payment has been made. The third one lies somewhere in the middle. It comes when the amounts being applied to the principal and to the interest are the same. After that the majority of the payment will be applied to the principal (and not that bloody interest!) and it's all down hill after that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Well, for me that middle milestone will be achieved with this month's payment.  Yippee!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4221570114928329627-977426448037055644?l=auctorial.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/feeds/977426448037055644/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4221570114928329627&amp;postID=977426448037055644&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/977426448037055644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/977426448037055644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/2009/07/half-and-half.html' title='Half and Half'/><author><name>Rick R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00764979275381950651</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/SlN4YPZ4rcI/AAAAAAAAAGY/t4b8OG6PPhg/s72-c/Hayward_Calif_Jersey_Crown_Dairy_Half_%26_Half.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221570114928329627.post-2407935843484540620</id><published>2009-06-20T17:17:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-20T17:24:53.110-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What the #@*%$      Part 2</title><content type='html'>It's a quiet Saturday.  I got most of my errands done this morning including my running and since noon there has been a steady rain.  It's 66 outside now and all of the windows are closed.  I'm tempted to turn on the heat but I resist and don a sweatshirt and sweatpants.  I make myself a cup of tea and settle down in my easy chair.  It's somewhat dark outside due to the thick rain clouds.  I turn on the light by my chair and begin to work on the Star Ledger's new 16x16 Soduko.  Ah, so relaxing.  Life is good.  I take a break to rest my eyes and get up to stretch my legs.  I walk past the calendar on the wall and see......JUNE 20TH!?!?!?!?!?!??!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4221570114928329627-2407935843484540620?l=auctorial.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/feeds/2407935843484540620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4221570114928329627&amp;postID=2407935843484540620&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/2407935843484540620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/2407935843484540620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/2009/06/what-part-2.html' title='What the #@*%$      Part 2'/><author><name>Rick R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00764979275381950651</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221570114928329627.post-5181620713937367233</id><published>2009-06-17T10:21:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-17T10:32:45.884-04:00</updated><title type='text'>DUCK!!!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/Sjj-XmcevuI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/GvS0tC3Zd_I/s1600-h/Red-Winged%2520Blackbird.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348304238912913122" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 191px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/Sjj-XmcevuI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/GvS0tC3Zd_I/s320/Red-Winged%2520Blackbird.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had finished my run this morning and was doing my post-run walk thru Verona Park when I passed a couple of trees and heard some birds screeching. I thought nothing of it until I felt something brush against the top of my head. I turned and saw a red-winged blackbird flying away. He landed on a branch and eyed me up for another pass. Either I was near his nest or he liked sweat soaked tops of heads. He came in again but I faced him the whole way and he just fluttered above me for a few seconds and then flew away. I continued my walk without any further encounters. I'll take a detour next time!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4221570114928329627-5181620713937367233?l=auctorial.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/feeds/5181620713937367233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4221570114928329627&amp;postID=5181620713937367233&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/5181620713937367233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/5181620713937367233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/2009/06/duck.html' title='DUCK!!!!!!'/><author><name>Rick R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00764979275381950651</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/Sjj-XmcevuI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/GvS0tC3Zd_I/s72-c/Red-Winged%2520Blackbird.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221570114928329627.post-381414360255473027</id><published>2009-06-12T20:33:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T20:37:18.210-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What the #@*%$</title><content type='html'>I settle down in my tv-watching chair tonight with a six pack and a just-delivered pizza and I flip on my old boob tube to watch my favorite show "Keeping Up With the Kranepools".  And nada.  Nothing on the screen.  What the -----!  I guess I'm going up on the roof tomorrow to look at the antenna.  Geeez.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:78%;"&gt;(kidding)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4221570114928329627-381414360255473027?l=auctorial.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/feeds/381414360255473027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4221570114928329627&amp;postID=381414360255473027&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/381414360255473027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/381414360255473027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/2009/06/what.html' title='What the #@*%$'/><author><name>Rick R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00764979275381950651</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221570114928329627.post-7891287889007364401</id><published>2009-03-17T21:48:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T22:03:34.441-04:00</updated><title type='text'>How?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;When I arrived home tonight and entered my kitchen, the first thing I noticed was the box of toothpicks strewn all over my counter.  The box usually sat on the window sill over the sink.  The first thought that went thru my mind was that the house had been burglarized.  But before any type of fear had time to set in, the mystery quickly resolved itself.  From a corner of the kitchen came a flapping sound and a grown starling began to fly about the kitchen and occasionally crashing into the windows.  While I watched him fly about I wondered how he had gotten into the house, but my first priority was to get him out.  Since he was trying to fly thru the windows, I figured this was going to be easier than getting a squirrel out of the house.  So I opened two kitchen windows and fortunately he stayed on the first floor and eventually flew out and into freedom.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;After shutting the windows, I looked around the house dreading a broken window somewhere.  But all of the windows were intact and all of the doors shut.  The door to the attic was shut too.  How did he get in?  I could only think of two possibilities: the furnace in the basement sometimes has skulls and bones near the vent from birds who try to keep warm in the winter.  I went down and there was a skull.  But I figured that that entrance should be certain death and since it was a warm day (50+ degrees), highly unlikely that a bird had entered there.  The other possibility was a hole in the ceiling in the mudroom (where Woody's ramp once stood).  I always thought it was just a hole that was shut down on each end by a joist, but upon closer examination there was what looked like a vent pipe about 8 inches away from the hole.  Could he have gotten in thru there?  I had no idea but I couldn't find proof of any other entrance.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;So I put a temporary patch over the hole and went on with my life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4221570114928329627-7891287889007364401?l=auctorial.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/feeds/7891287889007364401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4221570114928329627&amp;postID=7891287889007364401&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/7891287889007364401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/7891287889007364401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/2009/03/how.html' title='How?'/><author><name>Rick R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00764979275381950651</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221570114928329627.post-3935577914324700848</id><published>2008-09-14T16:05:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T16:08:13.480-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Secured</title><content type='html'>Friday I visited my local Motor Vehicle Bureau to get a replacement registration.  Once again, the service was friendly and helpful.  It was a bit crowded this time, but as I walked out I made sure this time that I had the right card.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While standing in line though I recalled the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;following&lt;/span&gt; exchange:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JERRY: I still can't believe, you're going out on a blind date.&lt;br /&gt;ELAINE: I'm not worried. It sounds like he's really good looking.&lt;br /&gt;JERRY: You're going by sound? What are we? Whales?&lt;br /&gt;ELAINE: I think I can tell.&lt;br /&gt;JERRY: Elaine, what percentage of people would you say are good looking?&lt;br /&gt;ELAINE: Twenty-five percent.&lt;br /&gt;JERRY: Twenty-five percent, you say? No way! It's like 4 to 6 percent. It's a twenty to one shot.&lt;br /&gt;ELAINE: You're way off.&lt;br /&gt;JERRY: Way off? Have you been to the motor vehicle bureau? It's like a leper colony down there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4221570114928329627-3935577914324700848?l=auctorial.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/feeds/3935577914324700848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4221570114928329627&amp;postID=3935577914324700848&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/3935577914324700848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/3935577914324700848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/2008/09/secured.html' title='Secured'/><author><name>Rick R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00764979275381950651</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221570114928329627.post-6761750977695812383</id><published>2008-09-07T16:22:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-07T16:26:51.785-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer Reading</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Wow, two posts in a week!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;The Babes in the Wood by Ruth Rendell&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Cage of Stars by Jacquelyn Mitchard&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;The Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;In the Shadows of the Sun by Alexander Parsons&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Light on Snow by Anita Shreve&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Love Walked In by Marisa de los Santos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;The Memory of Running by Ron McLarty&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Reversible Errors by Scott Turow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Tenney's Landing by Catherine Tudish&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;We Are All Welcome Here by Elizabeth Berg&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4221570114928329627-6761750977695812383?l=auctorial.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/feeds/6761750977695812383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4221570114928329627&amp;postID=6761750977695812383&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/6761750977695812383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/6761750977695812383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/2008/09/summer-reading.html' title='Summer Reading'/><author><name>Rick R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00764979275381950651</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221570114928329627.post-592711093628340067</id><published>2008-09-03T16:43:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-03T16:54:26.459-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Deja Vu ???</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Fans of this blog will surely remember the classic from July 31, 2007.  I'll wait while you go look it up and read it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;Back?  Good.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;Well, today I was filling out a form for a school parking lot permit.  I pulled out my registration to get some needed information.  And I stared at it in disbelief.  It was for my old Mazda.  But I thought I had replaced this a year ago.  Where the %#@* did this come from?  I went thru my glove compartment and besides finding several pairs of gloves, the only thing I could find was a receipt for a registration.  It didn't have a date but I'm 95% sure it is from 7/31/2007 because of the cost.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;So I figured two things may have happened:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;1) I went there that day and they processed a replacement.  I got a receipt for a Toyota.  But they printed out a registration card for my old Mazda.  I find this hard to believe, because since Toyota registered my car when I bought it, the Toyota and not the Mazda should have been in their database.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;Or&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;2) I actually did get the replacement that day but maybe lost it?  And somehow the old lost one that I couldn't find somehow found it's way into my wallet?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;Both seem implausible.  So it looks like another trip to the DMV.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;This is another one of those mysteries that I'll be dying to find the answer to when I get to heaven (if I get there).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4221570114928329627-592711093628340067?l=auctorial.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/feeds/592711093628340067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4221570114928329627&amp;postID=592711093628340067&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/592711093628340067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/592711093628340067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/2008/09/deja-vu.html' title='Deja Vu ???'/><author><name>Rick R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00764979275381950651</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221570114928329627.post-4715507228972779644</id><published>2008-03-02T18:42:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T14:16:11.935-05:00</updated><title type='text'>WHY?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/R8s8WRDzQ2I/AAAAAAAAAEI/dda8by08VJM/s1600-h/Hawaii.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173294950199280482" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/R8s8WRDzQ2I/AAAAAAAAAEI/dda8by08VJM/s320/Hawaii.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was driving home today and got behind a car with an out of state plate. At first I didn't recognize it so I got a little closer. The background was white with a smattering of colors near the top. It had a dealer's frame so I still couldn't identify the state. So I got even closer and then I saw it. HA-VY-YEE!!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I won't even ask the question here.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4221570114928329627-4715507228972779644?l=auctorial.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/feeds/4715507228972779644/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4221570114928329627&amp;postID=4715507228972779644&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/4715507228972779644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/4715507228972779644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/2008/03/why.html' title='WHY?'/><author><name>Rick R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00764979275381950651</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/R8s8WRDzQ2I/AAAAAAAAAEI/dda8by08VJM/s72-c/Hawaii.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221570114928329627.post-6609306992149012543</id><published>2008-01-12T10:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T14:16:12.117-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Had He Lived......</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/R4jbU_RbiwI/AAAAAAAAAEA/z9w9Kfj5AqA/s1600-h/2001+C.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5154610927153941250" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/R4jbU_RbiwI/AAAAAAAAAEA/z9w9Kfj5AqA/s320/2001+C.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;HAL would have turned 16 today. His real name was HAL-9000, but he was known to his friends as HAL. He was a good guy, but a bit paranoid at times. And unfortunately, that was what led to his murder. RIP, good buddy HAL.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Good afternoon, gentlemen. I am a HAL 9000 computer. I became operational at the H.A.L. plant in Urbana, Illinois on the 12th of January 1992. My instructor was Mr. Langley.....&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4221570114928329627-6609306992149012543?l=auctorial.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/feeds/6609306992149012543/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4221570114928329627&amp;postID=6609306992149012543&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/6609306992149012543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/6609306992149012543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/2008/01/had-he-lived.html' title='Had He Lived......'/><author><name>Rick R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00764979275381950651</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/R4jbU_RbiwI/AAAAAAAAAEA/z9w9Kfj5AqA/s72-c/2001+C.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221570114928329627.post-4870749107932956985</id><published>2008-01-02T19:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T14:16:12.283-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Love that DMV</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/R3wr_vRbivI/AAAAAAAAAD4/PkKDdTkUc7g/s1600-h/Driver%27s+License.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151040447826332402" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/R3wr_vRbivI/AAAAAAAAAD4/PkKDdTkUc7g/s320/Driver%27s+License.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Well, it has been a while since my last post. So here's the highlight of my Christmas Vacation. My Driver's License had expired and I had to get the new picture hologram type that the state of NJ was implementing. So off to the new DMV I went. For those who enjoyed my 7/31 posting will be glad to know that it was another enjoyable experience. In and out in 18 minutes. And the help and assistance was unbelievable.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4221570114928329627-4870749107932956985?l=auctorial.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/feeds/4870749107932956985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4221570114928329627&amp;postID=4870749107932956985&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/4870749107932956985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/4870749107932956985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/2008/01/love-that-dmv.html' title='Love that DMV'/><author><name>Rick R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00764979275381950651</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/R3wr_vRbivI/AAAAAAAAAD4/PkKDdTkUc7g/s72-c/Driver%27s+License.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221570114928329627.post-6344092373145998546</id><published>2007-09-05T18:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T14:16:12.445-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer Reading</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/Rt8puYMBeDI/AAAAAAAAADw/0M_YcirAdsk/s1600-h/books.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106846379205031986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/Rt8puYMBeDI/AAAAAAAAADw/0M_YcirAdsk/s320/books.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Well, it's the eve of another school year. Back in May, our upperclassmen were given their reading lists for the summer. I didn't get one, so my list will be of the books I &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;DID&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; read during my time off. The warm summer season is always the one during which I do most of my reading (really all of it).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;So here is my list. Unlike some people, I won't attempt to write a review or synopsis of any kind.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;The Amber Room - Steve Berry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;The Bone Vault - Linda Fairstein&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Franny &amp;amp; Zooey - J.D. Salinger&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;John McGraw - Charles C. Alexander&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Murder List - Julie Garwood&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Nine Stories - J.D. Salinger&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Offer of Proof - Robert Heilbrun&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Open and Shut - David Rosenfelt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Our First Revolution - Michael Barone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Raise High the Roof beam, Carpenters - J.D. Salinger&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Stealing the General - Russell S. Bonds&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Wisecracker - William J. Mann&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4221570114928329627-6344092373145998546?l=auctorial.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/feeds/6344092373145998546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4221570114928329627&amp;postID=6344092373145998546&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/6344092373145998546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/6344092373145998546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/2007/09/summer-reading.html' title='Summer Reading'/><author><name>Rick R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00764979275381950651</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/Rt8puYMBeDI/AAAAAAAAADw/0M_YcirAdsk/s72-c/books.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221570114928329627.post-2918427340689522422</id><published>2007-09-02T19:56:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T14:16:12.591-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Unanswered questions</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/RttSRoMBeCI/AAAAAAAAADo/OriK6MY7t1g/s1600-h/cat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105765065353689122" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/RttSRoMBeCI/AAAAAAAAADo/OriK6MY7t1g/s320/cat.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;During the past week, I saw my second dead cat on the side of a road in the past month. Deer, raccoons, and possum I understand, but dead cats I could never understand. I've always had dogs as pets so I can't begin to know the mentality of a person who owns a cat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;When a person adopts or buys a cat, does he or she say to themselves....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"I know this cat will go out on its own at night, prowling around the neighborhood. It may even come to the "big road". It will try and cross it for some reason. It may make it. Or maybe not. I accept the fact that my pet will not return alive."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or when that pet does not return in a day or so, do the owners drive around looking for it expecting the worst? Or do they just sit back and hope it returns someday?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;And when the police or dead-animal-picker-uppers remove the dead from the roads, do they go around notifying the neighborhood of the newly found dead?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Just some questions I've wondered about.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4221570114928329627-2918427340689522422?l=auctorial.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/feeds/2918427340689522422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4221570114928329627&amp;postID=2918427340689522422&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/2918427340689522422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/2918427340689522422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/2007/09/unanswered-questions.html' title='Unanswered questions'/><author><name>Rick R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00764979275381950651</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/RttSRoMBeCI/AAAAAAAAADo/OriK6MY7t1g/s72-c/cat.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221570114928329627.post-1458668490775194228</id><published>2007-09-02T19:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T14:16:12.735-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Greenhouse??  If not, what?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/RttQaIMBeBI/AAAAAAAAADg/yMxSN2UOqCQ/s1600-h/jungle.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105763012359321618" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/RttQaIMBeBI/AAAAAAAAADg/yMxSN2UOqCQ/s320/jungle.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I mentioned in a previous entry in this blog that I never water my lawn. And how it is always green, just as green as my neighbors' lawns which are watered constantly throughout the summer. My dad had a great philosophy regarding lawns which I wholeheartedly subscribe to: "as long as the lawn is green, it doesn't matter if it's weeds or grass."&lt;br /&gt;And usually after a hot summer (especially a hot August), the grass tends to grow slower and take on a shade of brown. But today when I cut the back lawn, it was high, lush, and green, just like it is in late April or early May. Not sure what's going on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4221570114928329627-1458668490775194228?l=auctorial.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/feeds/1458668490775194228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4221570114928329627&amp;postID=1458668490775194228&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/1458668490775194228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/1458668490775194228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/2007/09/greenhouse-if-not-what.html' title='Greenhouse??  If not, what?'/><author><name>Rick R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00764979275381950651</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/RttQaIMBeBI/AAAAAAAAADg/yMxSN2UOqCQ/s72-c/jungle.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221570114928329627.post-1969023839065053932</id><published>2007-08-05T13:45:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T14:16:12.948-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Matewan it's not, but it's close</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/RrYN-Gn52QI/AAAAAAAAACY/FObCH8eYdlM/s1600-h/knowlandl3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5095275388997327106" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/RrYN-Gn52QI/AAAAAAAAACY/FObCH8eYdlM/s320/knowlandl3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/RrYN5Gn52PI/AAAAAAAAACQ/KhzbmVorYvc/s1600-h/08-05-2007+01%3B29%3B44PM.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5095275303097981170" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/RrYN5Gn52PI/AAAAAAAAACQ/KhzbmVorYvc/s320/08-05-2007+01%3B29%3B44PM.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Sunday morning in the hill country. Blue skies, bright sun, pleasant temps. A good day as any to go work up in Mine Shaft #19. I walked off down towards Clem's house and he was sitting on his front porch with his dog, Blue. "Clem," I said. "Ready to head up to the mine?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;"Yep," replied Clem. "Be with you in a sec." He disappeared into the house and came back out with a big smile on his face.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;"Let's go! Had to kiss the wife g'bye."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;We trudged up the long winding dirt road that led to Ol' 19. We finally arrived at about 11. This was the last mine that we owned. We used to have two open mines over in Old Bridge County. We did a lot of open strip mining on those two, but we had to sell the land last year. Now all that's left is #19.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;The big black door that barred the front of the mine had shifted over the years and some of the contents were leaking out. Clem and I got the door away from the front and saw the rich contents of the mine. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;"Gotta be careful this year," I said to Clem. "You're right. We lost two guys when we were up here two years ago."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;That tragedy was caused by the ever dangerous cave-in. This year though I had a plan. We started excavating the black gold from the front of the mine. After we had gone about a fourth of the way into the mine, I got a large piece of plywood. We shoved it in at the height of the opening. With large rubber mallets, the wood was shoved all the way to the back of the mine. As we dug deeper into the mine we supported the wood ceiling with beams of wood. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;"This will hold it up real good," said Clem. I nodded back to my partner.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;We finally reached the back of the mine but I wanted more. More black gold. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;At the bottom of the mine was a grid of wooden planks that served as sort of a sieve floor. Not sure why this was installed in this mine, but the wood had rotted over the years. We managed to get all the rotten wood out, and then excavated even more down to the original floor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;All total, we excavated about 7 or 8 pails full of black gold. We then replaced the old floor with a new one of bricks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Now came the tricky part. We had to get the beams and the partial ceiling out and avoid the eventual cave in. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;We had to be quick and fast.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;"Fire in the hole," I yelled.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Clem and I grabbed all the wood and ran. The top of the mine thundered down where we had just been. Some of the contents of the mine fell out, but we shoveled it back in and replaced the front door. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;To fasten the door more securely, we roped it up good and tight.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;"Well, lunch at the tavern, Clem?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;"Yup"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;And off we went to quaff our thirsts after a hard day's work.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;(For the gullible, this is a story of how I made a withdrawal from my compost maker. And it's pronounced "Mait-wan")&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4221570114928329627-1969023839065053932?l=auctorial.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/feeds/1969023839065053932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4221570114928329627&amp;postID=1969023839065053932&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/1969023839065053932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/1969023839065053932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/2007/08/matewan-its-not-but-its-close.html' title='Matewan it&apos;s not, but it&apos;s close'/><author><name>Rick R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00764979275381950651</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/RrYN-Gn52QI/AAAAAAAAACY/FObCH8eYdlM/s72-c/knowlandl3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221570114928329627.post-7968935724506025216</id><published>2007-08-04T14:23:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T14:16:13.047-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Real life re-boot</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/RrTJbGn52KI/AAAAAAAAABo/2jNatFkfIVk/s1600-h/CouthouseStruckByLightning(smaller).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094918545934506146" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/RrTJbGn52KI/AAAAAAAAABo/2jNatFkfIVk/s320/CouthouseStruckByLightning(smaller).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I went to sleep last night to the pleasant rumblings of an oncoming thunderstorm. I woke up in the middle of the night and I realized something was different. I didn't need to visit my favorite watering hole; rather I noticed that my ceiling fan was not turning and the room was quite warm. I strained my eyes to try and see what the comforting red digits on my alarm clock read. But all I saw was black. Had I gone blind? No the power was off. So I moved down stairs to the sofa where the room was quite cool due to the aforementioned rain storm. Around 8, I arose and the power was still off. So I decided to kill some time and went out for a paper and breakfast. Upon returning home I realized that the status had not changed. I knew this because I saw quite a few people sitting out on there porches. I guess they were forced out of their AC'd sealed-up cocoons which were now quite warm. Haaah, flushed out of their little holes like a hose down a chipmunk's lair.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;But no difference here except for the absence of any working fans. So to kill more time, I decided to tackle some more tasks which required either muscles, a hose, or both. Speaking of using a hose, I'd like to make a comment in response to a posting that appeared on my N-I-L's blog. She mentioned the need for going green and one of the ways is not to run the water during the brushing of one's teeth. Well, that's nothing compared to some of the knuckleheads on my block. It amazes me as to when they water their lawns. The weather man could be saying that there is a 50% chance of rain at night but they're watering their lawns in the early evening. I guess I could give them some slack on that since we're talking about percents and probability, but the ice-hole three houses down takes the cake. After a night of heavy downpours, he had his sprinkler going full blast this morning. Unbelievable. And I don't know why people water their lawns so much. I have not watered my lawn ONCE this summer and it is just as green as anyone else's on the block. Oh, well. Thanks to my venting, I now have a posting for August.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Well, around 1 PM, the power finally came back on and except for missing a few hours of the Louis Armstrong Birthday Broadcast, it wasn't such a hardship after all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4221570114928329627-7968935724506025216?l=auctorial.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/feeds/7968935724506025216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4221570114928329627&amp;postID=7968935724506025216&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/7968935724506025216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/7968935724506025216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/2007/08/real-life-re-boot.html' title='Real life re-boot'/><author><name>Rick R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00764979275381950651</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/RrTJbGn52KI/AAAAAAAAABo/2jNatFkfIVk/s72-c/CouthouseStruckByLightning(smaller).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221570114928329627.post-1915442458366166222</id><published>2007-07-31T11:14:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T14:16:13.267-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It pays to be a safe driver</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/Rq9X_Gn52JI/AAAAAAAAABg/5EH7bv8OVXE/s1600-h/old+car.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093386445200677010" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/Rq9X_Gn52JI/AAAAAAAAABg/5EH7bv8OVXE/s320/old+car.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Next Wednesday, August 8th, marks the two year anniversary of the purchase of my Toyota Corolla. Yesterday, I needed to retrieve some information from the registration for said car. As I pulled the card from my wallet I was shocked at what I found. The registration card in my wallet was for my previously owned Mazda Protege. Where was the card for my Toyota? Had I been driving for two years without the proper registration on my person? Had I been so fortunate not to ever have been pulled over?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;A search of my glove compartment (which does not contain any of my gloves) and my house failed to turn up the missing card. I figured one of two things had happened. One, the DMV never sent me a card after I bought the new Toyota. If they had, I most certainly would have replaced the old one in my wallet with the new one. Or two, as I do with a lot of mail, I discard junk mail without even opening it. But I'm pretty sure that DMV envelopes are clearly marked.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;So today, I made a trip to my favorite DMV agency. I've made the one in Wayne my favorite because I feel very comfortable with it. Car Inspections are one of those activities that you have to play the game if you want to get out of there quickly and with minimum aggravation. Mechanics are another. Maybe it has something to do with cars. But you don't want to argue or complain to a mechanic or a car inspector.  And I've had mostly good luck with the Wayne location.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I dread having to go to the DMV building for two reasons. One, it could be very crowded and you could spend a good part of the day there. Two, I always fear getting in a wrong line and spending wasted time when I am supposed to be in another line.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;This was to be my second visit to the Wayne building since the State out-sourced the control of the Motor Vehicle Agency. Five years ago I needed to get a photo licence to serve as a photo ID for a job search at the time. I had to do this since the county had stopped issuing plain photo IDs. From what I remember, the process of getting the photo license was quite painless.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;So today around 10 AM I entered the building as if I was going to the dentist (which I will be doing this Friday). I noticed right away that the room was not crowded at all. I immediately got onto a line that I noticed several people who entered the building ahead of me had gotten onto. But then I noticed that the sign on the line said it was for everything but registrations. Oh oh. Fear was setting in. But then I noticed a girl walking along the line talking to everyone to make sure that they were in the right place. Ahhhh. She asked me what I needed, I replied a replacement registration, she handed me a small form to fill out, and then pointed to a line on the other side of the room. Ahhhh. The form was filled out, and then after a short wait on the new line, I had my new registration in hand. Some pleasantries with the clerk surely made the process go quicker. I didn't even have to wait for the card to be printed up at another location--she had it right there for me. Beautiful. I walked out the door after only twenty minutes, which would have been even shorter if I didn't have to walk out to the car to find out what my licence plate number was!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;And now with a valid registration in my possession, I didn't have to drive like an altar boy anymore. On the way home, I drove 50 MPH thru the suburban side roads of North Caldwell honking my horn at every pedestrian!!! Kidding.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4221570114928329627-1915442458366166222?l=auctorial.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/feeds/1915442458366166222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4221570114928329627&amp;postID=1915442458366166222&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/1915442458366166222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/1915442458366166222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/2007/07/it-pays-to-be-safe-driver.html' title='It pays to be a safe driver'/><author><name>Rick R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00764979275381950651</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/Rq9X_Gn52JI/AAAAAAAAABg/5EH7bv8OVXE/s72-c/old+car.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221570114928329627.post-7742749600187943964</id><published>2007-07-17T12:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T14:16:13.372-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sorry, Wrong Number</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/RpzvjIdSCBI/AAAAAAAAABY/9-XCDi-cv_E/s1600-h/07-17-2007+12%3B24%3B07PM.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5088205065866577938" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/RpzvjIdSCBI/AAAAAAAAABY/9-XCDi-cv_E/s200/07-17-2007+12%3B24%3B07PM.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;No, not the Burt Lancaster-Barbara Stanwyck film. Rather the reference in a comment below to 45s. Oliver and Django recorded on 78s (10 inch).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4221570114928329627-7742749600187943964?l=auctorial.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/feeds/7742749600187943964/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4221570114928329627&amp;postID=7742749600187943964&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/7742749600187943964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/7742749600187943964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/2007/07/sorry-wrong-number.html' title='Sorry, Wrong Number'/><author><name>Rick R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00764979275381950651</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/RpzvjIdSCBI/AAAAAAAAABY/9-XCDi-cv_E/s72-c/07-17-2007+12%3B24%3B07PM.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221570114928329627.post-5822744830007813865</id><published>2007-07-16T20:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T14:16:13.654-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Another productive day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/RpwPuYdSCAI/AAAAAAAAABQ/dvC6eX9pAgI/s1600-h/07-16-2007+07%3B56%3B14PM.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5087958968535484418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/RpwPuYdSCAI/AAAAAAAAABQ/dvC6eX9pAgI/s400/07-16-2007+07%3B56%3B14PM.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/RpwPo4dSB_I/AAAAAAAAABI/ajkb5s2CyEw/s1600-h/07-16-2007+07%3B57%3B33PM.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5087958874046203890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/RpwPo4dSB_I/AAAAAAAAABI/ajkb5s2CyEw/s400/07-16-2007+07%3B57%3B33PM.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Coming up with posts during the summer is probably going to be hard since all I mostly do is just sit around, relax, read, and watch my grass grow. But today was a beautiful day: partly cloudy, not that hot, and low humidity. So I decided to tackle some more home projects. The north side of the house had accumulated a good amount of mold on it over the years. So I decided to give it a good cleaning. I anticipated that it was going to be a %$*# of a chore, but I quickly discovered that with a good brush and one of Santa's reindeer, the green mold came off in a jiffy. The terrible chore was going to be easy but time consuming since there was a lot of it on the side of the house and it went quite high. So there was going to be lots of ladder climbing. I was fortunate that most of the mold was at the bottom. But I still tried to get as most of the side cleaned as was possible. I was able to get as high as 2 or 3 above the second floor window (see picture) and anything above that was very faint and really can't be seen from the ground. Cleaning from a ladder isn't really so bad except for when you're at the top and right up against the house. Don't look down!! I'll probably wait a long time before I clean it again since it will be easier to note where I've just cleaned and since it takes sooooo long to get done with all of the ladder climbing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I noticed that the south side had a little bit of mold too. It's all at the ground level and that will get done later on this summer. But I always thought that mold only appeared on the north side of objects.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I was in a house cleaning mode, I also cleaned the dirty sides on each side of the front door that my older brother pointed out to me the last time he visited. :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope my next post is more entertaining!!! LOL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4221570114928329627-5822744830007813865?l=auctorial.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/feeds/5822744830007813865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4221570114928329627&amp;postID=5822744830007813865&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/5822744830007813865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/5822744830007813865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/2007/07/another-productive-day_16.html' title='Another productive day'/><author><name>Rick R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00764979275381950651</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/RpwPuYdSCAI/AAAAAAAAABQ/dvC6eX9pAgI/s72-c/07-16-2007+07%3B56%3B14PM.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221570114928329627.post-402997189024723803</id><published>2007-07-13T14:55:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T14:16:13.822-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Norm and Tommy would be proud of me</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/RpfK6IdSB8I/AAAAAAAAAAo/O-CoYP9gnN4/s1600-h/07-12-2007+07%3B35%3B24PM.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5086757404189788098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/RpfK6IdSB8I/AAAAAAAAAAo/O-CoYP9gnN4/s400/07-12-2007+07%3B35%3B24PM.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Screen door (pre-2002) and Woody&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Now that I have successfully posted my first entry, albeit a tribute rather than a personal related experience, I can move on and do the latter. In October 2002, my employment was severed with the Prudential Company. The reason and the story will not given here but maybe it will be contained in a future posting. For the next eleven months I searched for a job, not knowing where or with what company I would work for. One thing I did know--for the past 19 years I had worked at three Prudential offices and the combined commute (one way) was 11 miles!! So I knew that those days of short commutes might certainly be over. And if I did have to travel, there would be issues regarding my dog. Working so close to home allowed me to either come home at lunch or not stay late and get home on time so dear old Woody could rush outside to do the required "duties". So the vision of a long stay inside of the house for him forced me to act. And so I ordered a "doggie-door" (large size). Once it was installed, I realized that the screen door would either have to be held open or removed from the back door. I opted for the latter. And for the past 4 2/3 years, the screen door was stored away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Now, it is time to put it back up. The reason why I can put the screen door back (you can probably figure it out) will definitely be the subject of a future post. When I took the screen door off in November 2002, I placed it against the side fence. And there it sat for the entire winter. The next summer I put it in the garage, but I noticed that some damage had already been done. The joints of the door were badly rotted. So I just roped it together and stored it away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Fast forward to this week. I have put together a whole list of summer projects and posted them on my kitchen door to motivate myself to complete them. One of the projects was to fix and re-install the screen door.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;So I took it out of storage and started to examine the damage. I noticed that the rotted joints were all joined by "dowel pegs". Many were rotted or broken. If Norm and Tommy were here, it would have gone like this:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tommy: This door is really rotted away.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Norm: What can be done about it?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tommy: Well, Norm, the best thing to do is simply build a new door.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Norm: I agree with you, Tommy, but the homeowner is on a tight budget for this renovation.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tommy: Then an alternate plan would be to replace the dowels and salvage the door.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Norm: How would we do that?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tommy: You like wine, Norm?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Norm: What does that have to do with fixing the door?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tommy: Just watch. I take a normal bit, drill a hole in the broken dowel that is stuck in the door. I then put a screw into the hole. Then with a pair of pliers, I simply pull out the trapped dowel like pulling a cork out of a bottle of wine.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Well, Tommy's tip worked for about four dowels. Then came one that would not come out. At first I thought maybe the screw was expanding the dowel so much that it wouldn't come out. But then I realized that some, not all, of the dowels were glued in. What now?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Well, Tommy and Norm had gone to lunch, so I had to figure out how to salvage this project on my own. I thought that maybe I could drill out the entire dowel. The dowels were 1/2 inch in diameter so that was the size of drill bit I would need. I knew I had some large drill bits laying around so I looked for the one I needed. I found the 1 inch and the 3/8 inch, but no 1/2 . I may have had one for all I knew, but in my cluttered garage it would stay hidden. That could be another project to add to my list: "Clean and organize my garage so that it resembles Norm's workshop".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I needed dowels and wood glue, it was now time to make a run to the Home Depot with the new drill bit added to the shopping list. All three items were procured without any problems. I usually have problems with finding things or getting the right ones when I venture out to shop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upon returning home I realized that to drill out the embedded dowels I would have to drill exactly straight down in a perpendicular direction. No fancy drill presses here, my old eyes would have to do the trick. The first one went well and the others followed and I always tried to see if I could pull them out first. All the dowels were finally out, and new ones were cut to replace the broken ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;Norm: Before the final assembly, we want to put the door together in a dry run to ensure that everything fits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Easier said than done, Norm. As I put things together, other joints began to split and other dowels broke. It's a good thing I got an extra length of dowel. So after more drilling and more cutting, I was ready for the final glue assembly. It wasn't easy but I was surprised that everything fit so well. I didn't have any clamps large enough for a door, but since it took so much hammering to get the dowels in, I knew those joints weren't going anywhere. I left it in the garage and went about other fun tasks for the rest of the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, after my morning routine, I went to the garage to examine the door. It appeard to be pretty solid. Next, the screen door. It went in like a hand in a glove. Next, installation. Six new screws and it was back in it's original location. It stuck a little on one end but a little sanding cured that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now I can cross that project off from my list. Just like Toby from "West Wing", I LOVE to cross things off the many lists I have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the screen door is back for the rest of the summer. Screen doors are good for two things. To keep the flies out while letting a nice cool breeze into the house. The other? Well, as Bruce sang, "The screen door slams"!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;Tommy: I'm Tom Silva&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Norm: I'm Norm Abram&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Me: And I'm the author of this blog. See you next time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4221570114928329627-402997189024723803?l=auctorial.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/feeds/402997189024723803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4221570114928329627&amp;postID=402997189024723803&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/402997189024723803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/402997189024723803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/2007/07/norm-and-tommy-would-be-proud-of-me_13.html' title='Norm and Tommy would be proud of me'/><author><name>Rick R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00764979275381950651</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/RpfK6IdSB8I/AAAAAAAAAAo/O-CoYP9gnN4/s72-c/07-12-2007+07%3B35%3B24PM.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4221570114928329627.post-4386880045601090138</id><published>2007-07-11T20:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T14:16:13.975-05:00</updated><title type='text'>So Long, Charles</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/RpV5yEdMPJI/AAAAAAAAAAM/UMtGCrEYmnQ/s1600-h/c+lane.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5086105255281441938" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/RpV5yEdMPJI/AAAAAAAAAAM/UMtGCrEYmnQ/s400/c+lane.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It's no skin off my nose. I'm just your little rent collector. But you can't laugh off this Bailey Park anymore. Look at it. Fifteen years ago, a half-dozen houses stuck here and there. There's the old cemetery, squirrels, buttercups, daisies. I used to hunt rabbits there myself. Look at it today. Dozens of the prettiest little homes you ever saw. Ninety per cent owned by suckers who used to pay rent to you! Your Potter's Field, my dear Mr. Employer, is becoming just that. And are the local yokels making with those David and Goliath wisecracks.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Film buffs should recognize this quote from the Capra classic "It's A Wonderful Life" and the speaker as long time character actor Charles Lane. Mr. Lane passed away on Tuesday, July 10 at the age of 102.  He appeared in more than 200 films and many television shows as well. Outside of the four Bailey &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;children&lt;/span&gt;, Lane, who played Mr. Potter's rent collector, was probably the last surviving member of this Christmas classic.   Rest in Peace, Charles.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4221570114928329627-4386880045601090138?l=auctorial.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/feeds/4386880045601090138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4221570114928329627&amp;postID=4386880045601090138&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/4386880045601090138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4221570114928329627/posts/default/4386880045601090138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://auctorial.blogspot.com/2007/07/so-long-charles.html' title='So Long, Charles'/><author><name>Rick R</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00764979275381950651</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rlZ1KW2v-YI/RpV5yEdMPJI/AAAAAAAAAAM/UMtGCrEYmnQ/s72-c/c+lane.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
