I will never forget the hours that I spent w/ Spic n' Span washing the
black shoe marks of past tenants off the backside of the rear basement
door that was painted white with an enamel like on a cast iron sink.
Whenever I thought I was finished she would come right back at me with
another mark that I could hardly see myself. You would never be able to
get an STD from that door! It drives me nuts on projects where suddenly
the vision of scrubbing that door will pop up in my mind's eye. I am
forever grateful that I have an experience to reflect back on that was
harder than any demands I face nowadays.

Or there was the damned lawn mowing, on the slope, where every pass had
to follow a specific pattern each and every time that the lawn was mowed
with exactly the correct amount of overlap of the mower blade.

To fail at any of these compulsive tasks was simply to fail.

][<

Pamela S. Follett wrote:

>Of course, the thought that the newspaper ink would rub off on plastic
>runners
>

--
To terminate puerile preservation prattling among pals and the
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<http://maelstrom.stjohns.edu/archives/bullamanka-pinheads.html>