My betta, Howard, ate the first couple mosquitoes I gave him happily. It made me feel even cleverer about getting them before they got me. I just slapped another one out of the air and now I notice that there are three dead mosquitoes floating in his tank. I bet the catfish would like them. I bet the snail would like them. Howard, eat your bugs.

My lawn mower may have been an excellent choice. So far I have not cut off my foot. It ate through the tall grasses like Pac-Man, with enough help from the self-propel that I am only tired, not shot entirely to hell. I made three separate sallies into the yard, and our garden spaces may not be taken over, and the loomroom nearly has a view. I also moved the pile of cedar planks we took off the end of the deck closer to their eventual position as compost bin, moved the pile of 2x4's out of the Malarial Swamp outside the back door, and mowed what I could of the Malarial Swamp. I also borroewed Paul's cordless SawzAll and did bad things to the utterly inadequately set chainlink fence -- now that the fencing is no longer hanging from the posts, we kept playing with them and pulling them out of their shallow pits. It is a wonder the former owner's dog didn't walk through that fence long ago.