Well, I heard a bush hog outside — actually, just across the creek from home yesterday when I let Maybelle out to chase squirrels and look at birds at the feeders.  My worst fears were made manifest after crossing the creek and taking a glimpse: yes, the local peasants were, indeed, making hay.  My sinuses were already inflamed at the thought of the chaff and pollen going into my nasal passages.  So, what was I to do?  Obviously, back home, preemptive Benydryl and then A/C back on, but it was 90F so I didn't really waste power!
The “local peasant” dig was actually from a serious academic piece I once read where when describing why the South is “different,” one author merely said “We retain an indigeneous peasantry.”  I went to see my nephew yesterday and I found out he had burnt copies of all my Clash CDs!  I had lent them to him to try to rectify his taste in music and I had no idea that he actually had taken any advice I might give to heart.  It was quite pleasing to us, I must say.
I need to go to the library and read 3 books, and do not wish to spend $25 for a card for my alma mater and $10 for joining the alumni association, so I shall just go and read them and do old school note taking in a notebook.
I am trying to get this blasted Systems Theory as an intellectual framework for “information literacy” — the most stupid name for a discipline ever — I like to call it “Scholarship” — in an editable order. I think if I dash off 3 or so short articles my job chances will be greatly improved.
All my other stuff is grad school seminar papers and book reviews that are published, and while a publication is a publication is  a publication, the fact that they are out of the field are not too hep . . .
Not much else, just “chilling” today, trying to write.  Trying is the optimum word for today, it is humid and overcast and hot. Lousy weather for October. . . full of pollen and dust, to boot.


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