Have you noticed that our list is called "lit ideas"? What do people do with the unlit ones? Well here it's gutters followed by gutters. We took gutters off the house when we remodeled. I was tired of cleaning the damn things out, way high off the ground. "Give me French drains," I said, knowing that the French were, historically speaking, among those who had particular drain issues. The setup worked reasonably well and we haven't, like our friends, had the slope slide away at a cost of thousands, but I thought possibly the norm was something I ought to conform to, so I had sales people come give me estimates. It turns out that gutter folk will shepherd water all the way from your roof down to the ground. After that you need to call in drainpersons, who are, as the Irish would say, completely differentkindahpeople. In the Western World we spend all this money educating kids broadly, insisting that they know Latin, Greek, Calculus and Fingerpainting and it turns out that water from here to there is in one kind of universe and water from there to there is a totally different proposition. Thus whatever you're quoted for a price doesn't actually tackle the whole point, which is keeping water away from the house's foundation. I have a theory that gutters are all wrong. In my world gutters would be angled at thirty or more degrees. I have even drawn up plans for a kind of ski jump idea wherein the water accelerates away from the building at considerable velocity and then sprays on the verdant green below. Also, of course, those guests who choose to arrive during a rainstorm. No, the whole slow slope trickle thing doesn't convince me, and when you live near trees? I think not. But who listens to anyone with water sprite advisors? Downspout salespersons sway the floor like demagogues. (Did you know, as I found out when I checked the spelling, that someone had invented the term "femagogues"? Apparently Obama "sides" with them: http://mediamatters.org/video/2012/02/09/malkin-with-contraception-rule-obama-is-siding/186089 He, of course, does quite a lot of siding. E the chicken daughter is gone again, wandering around in cranberry bogs. I'm envious. I've always wanted to see that whole deal. After tennis this evening we had dinner with another E. and J. They may have had some luck, so they were ebullient. He went to school near by where Ocean Spray do their thing and his sense is that cranberries go along like normal bushes until harvest time, whereupon you flood the field and float the fruit. I'm looking forward to our daughter's version or one day going to see. A friend wrote of sleeping people in her classes, which were the bane of my previous year, my schedule being Monday at 6pm for three hours, Wednesday at eight am for three hours and Friday more towards civilized hours. Though you may have guessed I love the seminar room, I am not missing teaching at present. That makes me sad and happy both. Today was a good writing day, so I feel, if not useful at least not entirely without something to contribute. Or spray. But I wish I missed my job more. It's, after all, what I do. Carry on. David Ritchie, Portland, Oregon