The Vanishing Professor, Cherdlen, Phonographs, Turpitude, Ribs & The Kitchen Table

I am still cataloging the crappy old books in my library. I haven’t even begun to record the Girls’ Cherdlen books. That will be a task! I estimate– based on the number I have cataloged– there to be 1200-1500 individual books here at the Farm. 

With 1200 books from which to choose, what book does A. Leland choose to pull from the shelf?

He came into the kitchen this morning after coffee and said he’d found the sweetest thing tucked behind the front cover of The Vanishing Professor.

While he and Mr. Big Food were off doing Big Food-related things (whole pigs are relatively inexpensive out here), I retrieved The Vanishing Professor’s hidden gem.

By Kat. There shurly was no doubt.

Upon reading, Daughter C and Miss M were thrown into a tizzy of laughter and they spent the next hour Skyping with Kat.

As an aside, and since we’re talking about Skyping, Kat referred to Mr.-Low-Man-on-the-Totem-Pole-Who’s-Tasked-with-Reading-My-Little-Blog as “Mom’s personal NSA agent.” I had to remind her that Mr. Low Man is an agent for all of us! 

I popped in and out of the Skype conversation. Mr. Low Man, if I’ve missed any of the funny sister stuff, please let me know.

Kat can’t remember what prompter her to write this, but we all agree– it’s classic Kat. We’re pegging it at about 3rd grade. Before 3rd grade, she’d for shur have had dificulty comllying with the rigors of sophistical grammatical structure.

Daughter C is making herself at home, which is to say she’s redecorating. We made a trip to town to find her a surface area that would hide electrical cords. 

Score. $15! And the dude helped put in in the truck.
She cleaned the knobs and when I put them back on, I remembered 16 & 78.

Look at how big that thing is! It still spins, although it may need some work. But how difficult could that be? I bet you a dollar I have a crappy old book that speaks to repairing phonographs. 

Before supper, I made a salad– the first of the fall season!

We had ribs for Saturday Supper. 

And a vegan rice dish

And then we read our Word of the Day sentences!

Your turpitude is astounding.

–Miss M

In making constant, vile sentences about [Miss M] this week, [A. Leland] has proven his moral turpitude.

–Daughter C

His moral turpitude was understandable in light of the fact that his moral framework had devolved into a series of legal rights.

–A. Leland

That’s pretty good. We grant A. Leland absolution for yesterday’s lame sentence.

The young Kantian’s high-handed verbal ideals were matched only by the moral turpitude exhibited in his behavior.

–Mr. Big Food

Two hundred thirty three years ago today, Benedict Arnold committed treason, an act of turpitude.


Normally, we read our sentences, load the dishwasher, and say good night. Thus, I proceeded to let the dogs out and do my normal end-of-evening things. But then I walked into the kitchen and saw that they were all cloistered about the table. 

They were working on some “brain teaser” greeting card problem. I solved Rhinoceros.

So. All in all. Just another Saturday here on the Farm. 

You wish you were here, don’t you, Mr. Low Man?