Oh lumbago

Not of general interest.
( seriously, only read the next bit if you're interested in osteoarthritis and old lady health )

On another front, it rained and rained last night. On my laundry, but I note this more as a note of humor than a true complaint, because hey, it rained and rained! We love rain.

What is to be done?

My new next door neighbors  hang out on their balcony every night and smoke vast quanities of very pungent marijuana. It's nasty stuff. The kind that makes you sniff your own armpits and worry about whether there's a skunk under the house. It's eye-watering strong.

The rooms where this stuff collects in my house are the rooms where K and I respectively sleep and work. I think it's affecting us.  I have tried working in other rooms but people coming through seem to think I am fair game if I am not in my room. Also, I think I should be able to sleep in my own bed.

I don't want to be the old lady who tells the students off for smoking dope, much less the one that calls the cops for relief.

What do I do?

Ah, those obscure nationalists

Not even vegetable salad is safe from the controversies of the ethnic secessionists.

(I was working on a long post about Czech food and wanted to check on the spelling of this salad, and I had an issue with a minor wording in the article so I turned to the talk page, as you do . . . I decided my issue was just not entertaining enough to compete with the insane fellow who has been attacking this article about the arrangement of cucumbers and tomatoes. )