My plan is to get rid of the rest of the books that are ready to go out this coming weekend, with an excursion to The Book Thing. There are, alas, many many more books that need to be read (or, in some cases, reread) first. And I barely made a dent in bringing my mother’s books down here. I got all the books I could find upstairs, but only a shelf or so of what’s downstairs. And I may have missed some upstairs because I didn’t go through all of the wall unit. (Come to think of it, I know there are a couple of dictionaries in a drawer in the living room, too.)
Don’t Analyze This Dream: I woke up in a minor panic this morning after a dream in which I was unable to explain a parameter in an elasticity equation to a colleague. The equation in question was, of course, complete nonsense and, yes, I do know that the symbol for Young’s modulus is E, not rho. Such is the way of dreams.
It was also slightly less disturbing than the dream which involved a long-dead great-aunt pointing at my alarm clock.
Weather: It is only November. It is not supposed to be this cold. Please re-boot the calendar.