New typo found...

...in the caption of a graphic novel adapting the memoir of a famous scientist: IT'S (for ITS) . . . (I took a mechanical pencil, and gently struck out the apostrophe.)

Addendum.

That very same day, I walked through the alley, and noticed not only how many dumpsters didn't have appropriate tops, but also how many bags in them had huge tears. It must be the squirrels!

Squirrel antics (2 of 2): Fencetop pathway.

That same day when I was in my kitchen and looking out a window on the other side of my house, something moving caught my eye, and I saw that it was a squirrel kind of nimbly moving across the top of the chain link fence that goes right by my house and keeps it from the yard of the house on the other side of it next door. And, as I looked closer, I saw that in places where there were these low snow-covered branches laying across the top of the fence, there was actually snow knocked off in little places right across where the fence ran underneath, since the squirrels had plowed the snow off by running across everything in a line and so kind of kept that little part of the branch clear, too, the rest of the snow arching up a bit on the branch on either side, making it almost like a miniature U or something like that.

Squirrel antics (1 of 2): Food.

Last week I was looking out the window on the one side of my house, and there was this squirrel that was dragging something across the snow-covered lawn, and it kind of looked like a frozen piece of pizza, almost like that pizza rat from memes from a few years ago. Anyhow, as I stood there sipping my mug of coffee and looking out of my window, it actually went and dragged that huge hunk of food across the snow and all the way up to a tree trunk and then actually went and took it up the tree like ten feet up and then went to go sit out on a branch and eat whatever it was, and as best as I could tell from my view, it was actually like a huge partial loaf of bread, and not a frozen piece of pizza at all.

A cute child story.

The other week, I was texting with my one (half Sudanese) (half British) friend (the sister of the brother-sister pair). I was asking her how her kids were reacting to all the snow in her area, and she said that her and her husband went to go take them sledding the other day, but it didn't happen since her like three-and-a-half-year-old daughter fell asleep in the car. And it turns out that the hill is in a park not all that far from their house. LOL. (She also said that she's been trying to ween her daughter off of naps so that she goes to bed earlier than ten-thirty at night, so she's partially responsible for what happened.)

Healthcare class classmates (1 of 4): Young auto repair guy.

In my one healthcare class that I'm taking, one of my classmates is a (young) (shorter) (rather round) (medium-to-lighter skinned) (black) guy who used to work in auto repair, but who now works in eldercare and is looking to get a leg up into a better position. The other day while we were waiting in line to demonstrate a skill that we'd learned and get signed off on by the instructor for our state certification, he was talking to me and one other classmate about where he had been working in this one nearby rural area and was like, "And I've been a cook, and they liked that, because I cook real good, but this" - and at that he pointed to his arm, kind of near his one tattoo - "THIS has been a problem." And at first I was thinking to myself, "They don't like tattoos there?", but then he said it was a problem when he switched to housekeeping since some residents wouldn't let him go into their rooms, and it was a problem when he switched to laundry since some didn't want him touching their clean stuff. "I can't help it how people was raised," he was like, "So it's like, whatever."

Lost typo.

Lately I've been reading this one highly regarded book on trauma that a colleague from my doctoral program who's into social work has been gushing about for years and that I remembered about and put in a library request for recently, when I'd seen somewhere that it was a New York Times bestseller, which I hadn't known. Anyhow, it's great, and I've also found a few typos in it, including in the author bio on the inside flap of the back cover. And so, like I've been doing lately, I've been making sure to go get a pencil and gently correct them. Only, a few weeks ago, I found a typo in a part that I was reading right before I went to bed, only I decided for some reason not to fold the page down there so I could go back to it and mark it whenever I had a pencil with me next, but then I went and didn't read the book for a few days on end, so when I finally started reading again and remembered about the typo, I flipped back through the pages I'd read recently, only I couldn't find it again. I guess that's life?