I hadn’t noticed until this morning that Karen DeCrow died on Friday. I don’t know if she was “famous” or not (though she probably should have been – especially to those of you of the female persuasion), but she was a fixture around here for what seems like forever, though I was kind of surprised that she was born in Chicago and didn’t get here until 1967 or so. She’ll certainly be missed.

And more sad news of course with Tracy Morgan in critical condition after a Wal-Mart tractor-trailer slammed into his limo bus, killing one guy and injuring a bunch more. Hopefully everybody who isn’t dead will get better.

Yesterday was a bad foot day for me – the first one in a while, and it came from nowhere. Bad “feet” day, more accurately. I got out of bed and, damn, both my feet were killing me. It was all I could do to hobble over the the dump and the gas station to buy diesel, and then come back and cut the grass. Even driving the tractor was painful (and that doesn’t require much more than sitting there – though there is the whole using the pedal-control thing. I’m not sure what you call the pedal on a diesel with a hydrostatic transmission, but I don’t think “gas pedal” would be correct).

Plus when I have to cut the grass, I constantly have to get off and move dog debris out of the way – bones, chew toys, sticks, and rocks. Yeah, rocks.

Every time I cut the grass (and this has actually been going on since before I started cutting the grass this year), I have to move rocks out of the way from around the sump pond, and yesterday was no exception as I had to move a bunch of rocks out of the way. And as I look out the window this morning, I see more damn rocks out there.

These aren’t small rocks, either (well, some of them are). Here’s one up close, and while there isn’t anything to give you scale, it’s more or less round, as thick as it is wide, and about the size of my head (and I’ve always been kind of a fat head). And the sucker is pretty damn heavy (I can pick it up with one hand, but it aint easy).

I haven’t caught anybody moving these rocks around (or, more importantly, how the hell they’re doing it – no way can they be getting their mouths around these thing, even if they could carry them, so I assume they’re using some kind of nose-roll technique lost to us since the days when the Pyramids were built). If you look at the picture above, though, you’ll notice a shitload of tooth marks on the thing. And I know who likes to sit and chew on rocks, so I’m pretty sure I know who the culprit is.

Now I just need to catch her in the act.

This is a particularly depressing Sunday for me, as not only do I not have tomorrow off, I have to work until five, too. That’s gonna suck.

Oh well, the feet are a bit better this morning, so I guess I should waddle into the Village and see about buying a couple ducks for this afternoon’s race (a five buck duck could net me a couple grand – hey, you never know).