I'm writing this one myself, so please forgive any misspellings. Even with the font up to 72, it's hard to see the difference between o-a-e and the like. The good part is even I look good in the mirror. Sorry about the extra long post yesterday. I dictated it into a recorder and Elizabeth just typed it in. I didn't look at it to see if it was too long. Normally I would have cut stuff to make it fit better. Also, I have a gob of references on diet and stuff (I've already been asked for some) which I will happily send once my vision returns to a more normal state. The last time I was on the drugs, it took about 2 weeks once the therapy ended, and I expect about the same. In the mean time, if you write me, *PLEASE* keep in mind my 18-year-old daughter is reading them to me, or at least screening them. Its only been a real problem with a single person sending personal flames and suggesting falsehoods about Elizabeth, but there is no need for anyone to embarrase themselves. So if it is something you don't want the love-of-my-life and would-kill-for teenaged daughter to read, save it for a few weeks. Speaking of Elizabeth, I have to report she did a very bad thing. Somehow she not only deleted by mail, but completely erased my entire mailbox, including addresses. She did it using Fetch, and I think she deleted the mail file accidentally by using the delete function in the pull-down menu. Which means, all mail (including some *really* important science stuff relating to ferret domestication and early hominid diet) was wiped at the source. She is sorry. She is also too embarrased to tell everyone she lost my mail. The people who have sent mail in the last day are ok; I can copy their return addresses from the mail. But everyone else is a blank. You need to write me so I can write back. I can remember UK and AU requests, but I need the address. Please write and I will have the stuff send immediately. Jim, if you see this, write! Frank, Patty, Freddy, Mike, Thelma, Chris and Susan--I have the info you asked for, but please write so I can send it. Anonfert- your mail was bouncing anyway, please resend. I also had about 10 requests to reprint some of my stuff, but cannot recall who asked. Whomever you were, you have my permission. Eric--I have your stuff on tape, and it will be emailed to you shortly. Oh, yeah, I'll email a new picture; one without sweatin'-in-the-museum-attic hat hair. I will be leaving for CaCa land to say goodbye to a dear old friend that passed away yesterday. Horse, my mare of 24 years, died in her sleep. She was a mean old thing that loved to bite me on the shoulder or step on my foot. She used to love this stupid old duck I used to have, and my dad would get a kick out of watching me yelling at Horse, trying to get her to let me lift her foot so I could work on her shoe, with Stupid Duck standing on her back. BTW, the duck's name was Stupid Duck. I also had a dog named The Three legged Dog and a cat named The Cat That Wouldn't Die. I thought it was funny at the time, ok? It was the late 60s and I was a smartass; give me a break. I've wanted desperately to bring her out to Missouri to be with me, but was sure the trip would kill her. I'll be gone during Thanksgiving and part of the next week. I'm going to spread her ashes off the top of Half Dome. She and I would go out for a week at a time in the backtrails of Yosemite, finding the spots where even the rangers feared to tread. When I was a jerky kid, I thought it was fun to get in front of the stable-horse tourists and lead them off the trail. Horse and I got kicked out of the park twice for that. She loved the smell of pine and acorns, and rattlesnakes never scared her. I just hope I can see what I'm doing; I've climbed the rock, but have never flown off, and I'm not quite aerodynamic enough for the experience. Sorry about the mail. Oh yeah, someone in Texas sent me a ferret newsletter, but all that arrived was a tiny scrap of blackened paper with my name on it. Came in an official post office baggie with an offical apology. Whomever you were, can you reship it? Bob C and 20 Mo Mail Shredders [Posted in FML issue 2127]