My Incredibly Unremarkable Life
A Journal (more or less)

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Considering today's date, you can probably figure out what it is, just in case you don't know already.

I don't have it.

Thirteen is the seventh prime number as you count in the base ten system.

Four thirteens equals a standard deck of cards.

On the work front, I am almost done with Mona's memorabilia.

And if you save snapshots, PLEASE indicate somewhere approximately when they were taken and who is in them. Luckily, Mona did for about 2/3 of the photos I've run across.

But she wasn't perfect--there are several really old photos that have no indication of just who is in the picture. I'm pretty sure that the pix with two little girls in 19th century outfits are her mother and aunt.

One interesting item that I ran across today is an act of sale for a piece of property. I thought I had brought it home, but it's not in my bag. The articles post-Betsy (1965) about levee problems are in my bag, and the big spread about Interstate work in Louisiana is there (the Twin Spans cost all of $16 million dollars in the sixties. I think the emergency repairs to just one span post-K cost almost that much)--but not the copy of the bill of sale.

Exams started today for the students. Our student workers are beginning to look a bit haggard. I asked the young woman from North Dakota how she felt about leaving the relatively warm temperatures of New Orleans for the vastly colder climate in North Dakots, and she said she couldn't wait. Of course, North Dakota has family there.

Thirteen didn't yield much, other than the obvious (see Rhubarb) and I'm not sure that fourteen will be much better tomorrow. In fact, my first thoughts about fourteen are of the so-what variety.

(I wonder if fourteen has anything analagous to triskaidekaphobia.)

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