On Monday morning, right outside The Dowd's house, these guys showed up with their dumptruck, flatbed trailer and Caterpillar, and replaced a leaky fire hydrant.
And I still say the hydrant was not leaking because Dad bumped into it with his car last year.
On Wednesday morning, back at our house, these guys showed up and chain-sawed our neighbors’ tree stump, and hauled away the giant logs.
I miss that tree. And I miss Layla.
Across the Thames River, at Electric Boat, they're still building submarines to, um, save the world.
Bill got a shot of this guy getting worked on last week. Quite a fierce looking fellow.
Also hard at work are Mr. Submarine's neighbors, the very epitome of industry . . .. . . the Cranes. Those hard-working cranes, whose beeps woke me up just this very morning. “The Sound of Progress” my friend Paul calls that 7 a.m. beeping.
But nobody was more industrious this week than Dr. P., neurosurgeon extraordinaire at Yale/New Haven Hospital. On Monday afternoon he operated on our sister Ann’s brain, and removed 3 pesky tumors.
One tumor especially gave the surgical team fits, the way it was wrapped around Ann’s optic nerve.
Rotten stinking tumor.
The surgery was a huge success, though, and Ann is doing great – she’s off and running, as it were, on the long-but-navigable road to recovery.
As well she should be. I mean, after all, it’s not like it's brain surg— oh, wait. Right. Nevermind.
Way to go, Ann!