Demoted Pluto from planet to plutoid statis isn’t going smoothly. Jeanna Bryner of Space.com reports, “The fall from grace has teachers, parents and educational publishers struggling to keep up, while kids remain loyal to their favorite, the ninth planet.” She quotes a nine year old who still believes Pluto is a planet and talks about it with her friends. That’s who the know-it-all scientists who thought they could just kick Pluto out of the sky should have polled, nine year olds who have an emotional stake in that cold chunk of rock. Educators appear to be more flexible.

Something about this story pleases me greatly:

A nursing home in Germany built an exact replica of a bus stop in front of the facility. The only difference is that buses never stop there.

It’s a gentle, non-confrontational method for preventing Alzheimer’s patients from wandering off. Good thinking. Compassion. To a degree rarely seen in our day (or any other, probably).

(Hat tip: Evangelical Outpost.)

Well, that was a novel experience. I’m referring to the fact that we had a pleasant weekend. Sunny skies, warm (but not hot) temperatures, both days. Until it rained, both days. But the rain didn’t last long either day, and didn’t interfere (much).

On Saturday I took the (drill) bit in my teeth and went out and did the job I’d determined to do a couple weeks ago, and hadn’t been able to carry through because I’d been out of town two weekends. I’ve still got that tree stump in my yard, uglying up the neighborhood. I figured I could either get somebody to grind it out, or use the stump-rotting chemicals you can buy at hardware stores, which meant I had to buy a decent drill (I have my dad’s drill, which is older than I am, heavy, and packs a whopping 2 amps of power. I discovered it wasn’t up to the job) in order to drill foot-deep holes in which to introduce the deadly stuff. Money-wise it was a toss-up, but I figured if I bought the drill I’d come out of the deal with a new drill, almost as a free bonus.

Spending money, for me, at least at this point in my decline, is something not to be done without prayer and fasting. But a three-week delay seemed adequate.

Got a 6.5 amp Ridgid with variable speed and a cord (I don’t really believe in those newfangled cordless things) at Home Depot. I was able to drill my holes and pour the stuff in without doing myself serious injury. Next I wait four to six weeks for the stump to rot out. Or that’s the product’s claim.

So that was Saturday’s personal triumph.

Sunday was Svenskarnasdag (Swedish Day) at Minnehaha Park in Minneapolis. We set up an encampment and did three combat shows. I lost more than I won this time, but who cares?

It’s goes against many of my deepest held and most sacred personal beliefs to admit it, but I think the girls at Swedish Day are, all in all, prettier than the girls at Norwegian Day. However, they don’t elect a queen at Norway Day (I think). That accounts for it, I’m sure.

Also observed some very strange people, as one is wont to do in city parks. There was an elderly fellow who wore a sarong (no shirt) and a lei. He spoke to me a little, and I got the impression he was not entirely rational (what are the odds?). Also talked to a man, apparently younger than me, who actually used “Keepin’ it real” and “Right on” in conversation. I’m just dumbfounded at that.

On the other hand, people who wear tunics and carry swords probably aren’t in a position to be very critical of strange dress and behavior in public parks.