|DEPARTMENTS||FEBRUARY 2006 – NO. 3|
[From the 1950-1951 diaries of a Michigan mathematics professor (name unknown), purchased at the White House Flea Market, Schenectady, NY, 2002.]
Burned papers and did other odd jobs in the morning.
Cut back the hydrangea. Lunched at home.
Dr. Parr preached an excellent sermon … Assignment to Austerity.
Started over again on hypergeometric, with new notation.
Got a light lunch at a theater — lunch that would best be forgotten.
I went to Research Club + heard Brauer's
talk on trouble with the infinite,
went home after the intermission
+ played Canasta.
Mr. Parr preached on "What Makes Life Worth While?"
to an audience not quite as good as last Sunday.
Burned papers + Helen
and I planted some rose
shoots that Mrs. Ward gave us.
Did a little work on hypergeometric.
Exchanged coats with Orbeck
and put my pipe + tobacco pouch in another man's
overcoat, but recovered them.
Helen and I heard lecture on Portugese cod
fishermen with very moving pictures
by an Australian, Alan Villiers.
Walked downtown, deposited check, straightened gasbill, + got some canvas gloves.
After walking around with lost boy turned him over to the police.
Worried about furnace noise, but I guess it is all right.
Got my good watch from Mr. Rust, got a new fawcet handle.
Played pool with Bateson, Carey and Wenrick.
Got a new idea on hypergeometric.
Jim Gault died last night.
Did a little computing.
Burned papers in the springlike morning.
Helen and I went to church,
there was a good audience.
Mr. Parr preached a good sermon
on the question "Does it matter."
We had dinner at McKenny Hall.
There had been a peculiar lurid
sky all day, quite dark but yellow
in the middle of the afternoon.
We had dinner at House of Good Food
+ started our naps about two.
Mr. Parr spoke of his visit to Mr. Douglass
+ said he was nearing the end. He preached on That Which Endures.
Burned papers + looked at bags + oiled motors.
Mourning doves have arrived.
A fawcet dripping 2 drops per second
takes 45 minutes to drip a quart.
I timed it in the basement.
Eclipse of moon, Helen + I
looked at it when half over.
Where loss is found.
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