With a project that's half working, my intention of sharing is not quite selfless. At this I need to commit my changes, even though some things have gotten broken the while. There's a slight hope on the matter of sharing, and this makes me wonder if I'm not wasting my time with the thought. So maybe it's time to let things settle.
The mailboxes do need to be attended to, and unless we're trying to bring back the Colonial days, this is where we aught to start.
The end of these days having brought about division between fathers and sons, I won't be letting you draw your own pictures.
Quite correctly a person who's told to 'make nice' is an artist. The struggle artists have with their tools is one we pay attention to. We need to start with petrol, because until someone shows us a factory that makes pencil boxes from quality wood, the hypothesis stands that Progress is a diode: so that, unless you get bad feelings from everything of yours made by 'injection' moulding--which attributive adjective only goes to highlight our insistence on Progress--it's left to us to preserve what was made before 'renewable' meant anything at all except what gives us eggs and seeds.
Before we get to petrol we need to look at where we get it from. I don't know if anyone has tried to see how quickly paraffin fucks up their injectors; but I would suppose that what prevents atomizing is an addition. This is one of those conversation topics that are brought to the table for after the lunch that came after a meeting. But this is where 'synthetic' meets its nemesis.
It's also where discovery meets its nemesis: because leaving things for observation is the easiest thing in the world.
As is doing one thing at a time to what we observe. Well, that's it for me. Version one won't compile correctly, and minus one-comma-one will have me asking you, 'have you got the latest?'