On the way home from the sewing machine repair place, I stopped by my rent property to pick up some tools and touch up paint that I'd left there. A couple of neighbors saw me and congratulated me on selling the place. How did they know already? I doubt that these people are blog readers and the real estate sign out front didn't have an "under contract" banner on it yet. I certainly didn't tell them. I guess it all comes down to gossip. Neighbors everywhere gossip about everything. In my own neighborhood, I'm the last to know anything, because I don't keep up with the neighborhood gossip.
I do keep up with when the dogs have had their rabies shots and get their city registration renewed. Apparently, the city doesn't keep up with things quite as well. Every year about this time I get a letter from Code Compliance telling me that Dash's city registration has expired and that they are going to fine me form non-compliance. I always call them back and tell them that I renewed Dash's registration at least a month ago and then read them his new tag number. They apologize, update his records, and then I don't hear from them again for another year. This has happened now for four years in a row. You'd think the city would get it right by now, but they haven't even come close.
I thought I'd play a few tunes on the old ESQ-1 synthesizer I uncovered yesterday. When I hit the first chord, I heard nothing. "Damn," I thought. "I've gone to all this effort to uncover this thing and it doesn't even work." I eventually discovered that the keyboard was just fine, but that the powered speakers it was connected to were broken. One more thing to fix, I guess. I don't know why I even bother. I'm certainly not that good at playing the piano. Of course, I'm not that good at sewing either. I just like to be surrounded by working tools.
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