We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
If you've ever worked in the oil patch, it's a tally book. Usually about 8" x 3-1/2", lined like a legal pad, they fit nicely in a back pocket. We used them to 'tally pipe', that is, measure each joint of pipe or casing precisely before it's screwed together and run in the hole for its purpose.
That way, the driller always knows exactly what he has in the hole, piece by piece. But they're so handy for day-to-day use, and I'm always finding it in my back pocket.
I used the long legal pads throughout my career at the hospital. As I was dealing with confidential info all day long, I developed a coding for what I wrote down. As I would occasionally need information from an older legal pad, I kept them in a drawer for a year or so. I did find that I could not understand the references even a month later sometimes.
When we had a class-action suit we had all emails and written notes sequestered and frozen, and Very Smart Lawyers came around and wanted to see what we had. One was very upset by the enormous security risks I had sitting in my drawer, but his supervisor, an older attorney, just shook hias head. "Can you tell what any of that means?" Don't bother. But the young earnest attorney kept it anyway, and nine months later I got all my legal pads back. I could tell by the order of them and what pages they had turned that someone had looked at a few pages and moved on from the whole pile.
Assistant Village Idiot