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An IBM card, also known as a punch card. photo borrowed from some university website.

I worked in the yard in the morning. It was a great day for gardening--not too hot, not too cold. I mowed the grass and pulled weeds, trimmed bushes and watered the scarlet begonias. I went to the hardware store and bought some green tape to help my new trees grow straight and tall.

I bought a big bag of bird seed for the birds. I have to move the bird feeder to a place where the squirrels can't get to it as easily. I've not yet figured that out yet. I don't mind feeding the squirrels, but they don't leave much for the birds.

The squirrels run across our back fence to get from their tree to the bird feeder. It puts the dogs that live in the yard behind us into a frenzy of barking, and they hurl themselves against the fence trying to get at the squirrels, sometimes hard enough to loosen the boards. The guy who owns the house behind me put up one of those electric wires that are supposed to contain dogs, but it doesn't seem to be working. I see a battle with this guy over a new fence in my future.


We bought a couple of tulip plants at the farmer's market last week, and they are sitting on the patio showing off.

It felt like a Saturday yesterday, and I had to keep reminding myself that it was only Friday. Not having set days off, weekends don't really have much meaning for me other than the stores are always more crowded. I like having weekdays off because it is like having the world to myself.

It was tax day. I haven't done my taxes yet. Last year I had a falling out with my regular tax guy because he forgot to file my stuff, and now I'm not sure who to use. I will file an extension and work it out.

Before we went to sleep, Malida mentioned, out of nowhere, that the 14th was the anniversary of the death of Abraham Lincoln. I asked her what made her think of it. She told me that she heard it on the radio. I asked her which station, and she said, "I don't know. It's the one with, 'Hi, I'm Steve Inskeep'."



I range the fields with pensive tread,
And pace the hollow rooms,
And feel (companion of the dead)
I'm living in the tombs.
--Abraham Lincoln