Ebbie said it:

". . . I forgot to ask myself beforehand [before she posted] how I was going to feel about it later. The fact is that it soured the rest of my day."

I live a few blocks from a fairly large in-city park. There are lots of crows that perch in the trees around here (they all play the oboe very badly–and they only know one note). Sometimes their squawking can get downright annoying. But what am I going to accomplish by yelling back at them, other than merely making myself look and feel foolish?

The only person I can censor is me.

And I've spent about fifteen minutes this morning reading the latest posts here and typing this. That's fifteen minutes of my life that I'll never get back.

Don Firth