Twenty Ten

Repeat after me … Twenty Ten, not Two Thousand and Ten.   Fewer syllables.   According to my calculations, given the number of years left in this century, times the growing number of English speakers, times PI**42, we collectively save enough energy in auditory output to slow the rate of thermodynamic entropic decay and we delay the ultimate heat death of the universe by at least 7 attoseconds.   Twenty Ten … pass it on.

I had a relaxed holiday.   Helen bought a couple of bongo drums last summer, which mostly served to scare away buffalo (at least I think that is what they did, as I never saw a single buffalo since we got them), so over the holidays I started hitting them:

 

After Helen’s 2 weeks of call duty, she relaxed a bit also.  Here she is partying with some residents, flower-power style:

 

Just before xmas, the green-eyed monster returned, this time bringing with him his normal man-servant Zach, but also Zach’s girlfriend Tiffany:

But Tiffany discovered a way to tame the wild green-eyed monsters:

And so now Zach can sleep soundly, happily ever after:

 

We also had a nice visit from Noah and his girlfriend Jen.  Jen plays sax, clarinet, and flute.   We got a nice recital: 

 

This is Noah concentrating during one of our chess games:

This is Noah not concentrating during one of our chess games.  Jen was moving the pieces for him, using his hands (I won): 

We also had a visit from our Physic professor friends from Philadelphia.   We went on a walk:

Helen attempted to lead us onto a frozen lake, one of those deep meromictic lakes with scary pre-historic things at the bottom of them, but we didn’t feel like becoming a scary pre-historic thing:

 

The final picture is of me examining Helen’s “final bag”:

She claims this one is perfect, and will be the last bag she will ever need to buy.   Can you detect a slightly skeptical look on my face?