2. I've been thinking about what makes people fall out of like. When I meet somebody, I either instantly like or dislike them, or I forget their names. Of the people I remember, I revise my opinion only rarely. So if I stop liking somebody, there's generally a reason, I mean a thing I can say, "It is at this point that I stopped liking you/being interested in you." But I guess for some people they just lose interest gradually? Or is there always some event, some one thing, however dimly acknowledged, that causes a break?
3. Inspired by our friends who got Squire to paint a trailer by paying him, I decided to try that approach at the cottage, and offered to pay him a really ridiculous amount per nail for pulling nails out of previously-used wood, so that it could then be safely chainsawed and used for firewood. Five crowns a nail, you guys. So he was all excitedly plotting what he would do with the money, what he would buy, how many nails he might pull in an hour, etc. I was like, "Hey, all he needed was some motivation!" He made it for about 30 minutes, 10 nails. Then he got bored and stomped around the place for a few hours talking about how he had so much angry energy he didn't know what to do with himself, oh the horrible hor-moans! and then he lay on the bed and listened to Percy Jackson and the Predictables. I pulled out the rest of the nails, though I gave up counting out loud after 100. Then I stomped around the cottage wondering who was going to pay ME five crowns a nail, because 500 Kc buys a quite fine bottle of somethingsomething, which I felt I deserved.
4. Noting typos on the US Census web site is a) an occupational hazard; b)a sign of too much free time; c) other.
5. I think one reason I am good at remembering so many facts in general is that I absolutely cannot store numbers. It has been noted that if some Czech version of the INS ever came for me, or child services for that matter, I might be lost. How much did Squire weigh when he was born? I have no idea. Or Friar's year of birth. Or my current phone number. I do not remember how old your kids are, and I have on more than one occasion forgotten how many kids you have, and had to remember by reciting their names, which I remember. I don't remember your birthday unless I have a clever mnemonic, though I remember to write it down, so props for me. I also have trouble performing simple functions, like you don't even want to know what DST does to my poor tender brain. But anyway: numbers. Numb-er and numb-er. Is this normal? It goes without saying that I can tell you phone numbers from my childhood, including radio stations, my aunt's house, my next-door-neighbor's, but I can't keep new numbers in my head for beans. I blame trying to switch to metric as an adult. What do you think?