Well done Sister Suffragette!
The first day with my parents back saw my father catching up on all the awful Loudmouth Blowhards Screaming which passes for ``analysis'' on news shows. If I weren't so innocent-minded I would have just deleted what was saved off Tivo, but I get irritated when he deletes my stuff so I suppose fair's fair. But I jumped at a pretty flimsy excuse to go to the library -- I'm not out of stuff to read, although I could use some book-on-tape-or-CD material for the drive into extruded office product. As I warned I was about to leave, my mother asked if I minded if she came along, which I'd not at all expected. It turns out that after living in the new house for seven years now she's finally decided to get a library card. (They had moved south one county, as traditional in their moves; I don't know what will happen if they reach Cape May County.)
Since the last time my mother got a library card a few things have changed, some rather small, like the library card now having a bar code and including a keychain version. A bigger change is the self-service checkout machines, which my mother didn't know how to work. She has used the self-service checkout at the supermarket, though she doesn't like it on the grounds that it's slower and insists on explaining how to scan the bar-code of an item every -- single -- time. But the self-service checkout at the library wasn't working, and I finally pinned down the reason: the self-service stations on the second floor of this branch have never worked. Sometimes they put up ``out of order'' signs, but not always. At a checkout station that worked she was much more successful.
On the way back my mother pointed out that I wasn't going the most efficient way there. Well, that's because the roads in this part of the state never meet at right angles, and I know that if two roads start out nearly parallel to one another they'll diverge rapidly and never return. It's a geographic anomaly which discourages the seeking out of alternate routes since it's remarkable enough when there exists even the one path to a destination. I suppose in the seven years she has been here, she's learned a few of the wormholes suitable for driving. On the other hand, I got a library card first.
Shortly before dinner my father asked if we wanted chips and salsa. I think the diet may have passed.
Trivia: In 1785 Pease & Sykes's stage coach line received the first contract to carry mail for the United States. Source: The Old Post Road, Stewart H Holbrook.
Currently Reading: The Continent of Lies, James Morrow. Virtual reality stuff through genetically modified fruits (apples, of course), a badnasty jumpjump trying to brainwash the masses, that sort of thing. I can see how it should be funny, although it didn't quite make me merry.