Duh! Slow brain here. I didn't connect the initials to the Benchmark Hunters forum. I see Holograph's statistics list you at 357 reports to NGS. Beats my 269. I haven't been out looking lately.
adamsurveyor..thanks again
This hanging on the wall is right up there with the Mt Rushmore "Three Surveyors and Another Guy"..
cheers
adamsurveyor..thanks again
Wayne, while we're at it below is a couple of others that have been posted here before.
Maybe you're already familiar with them. I think they got downsized a bit when I uploaded them. If anyone wants a copy of these they can email me through beerleg
an old Hagar cartoon
An old cartoon from POB (I think) that someone published on the old rpls.com
Rime of the Ancient Cartographer:
Each day I sit with pen in hand,
With compass, ink, and blotting sand,
With straight-edge ruler and divider,
triangle, T-square, and protractor.
I draw and dream, and dream and draw
The shores and hills of Panama;
The coasts of Malabar and Goa,
Cipango, Thai, or New Angola.
I draw not what mine eyes hath seen,
Nor prompted by an inner dream.
I put down what Balboa saw;
Alas for me! I only draw.
The geographer needs must travel ever,
the cartographer never.
- Lyman D. Lynn
The Mending Wall
Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it,
And spills the upper boulders in the sun,
And makes gaps even two can pass abreast.
The work of hunters is another thing:
I have come after them and made repair
Where they have left not one stone on a stone,
But they would have the rabbit out of hiding,
To please the yelping dogs. The gaps I mean,
No one has seen them made or heard them made,
But at spring mending-time we find them there.
I let my neighbor know beyond the hill;
And on a day we meet to walk the line
And set the wall between us once again.
We keep the wall between us as we go.
To each the boulders that have fallen to each.
And some are loaves and some so nearly balls
We have to use a spell to make them balance:
'Stay where you are until our backs are turned!'
We wear our fingers rough with handling them.
Oh, just another kind of out-door game,
One on a side. It comes to little more:
There where it is we do not need the wall:
He is all pine and I am apple orchard.
My apple trees will never get across
And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him.
He only says, 'Good fences make good neighbors'.
Spring is the mischief in me, and I wonder
If I could put a notion in his head:
'Why do they make good neighbors? Isn't it
Where there are cows?
But here there are no cows.
Before I built a wall I'd ask to know
What I was walling in or walling out,
And to whom I was like to give offence.
Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That wants it down.' I could say 'Elves' to him,
But it's not elves exactly, and I'd rather
He said it for himself. I see him there
Bringing a stone grasped firmly by the top
In each hand, like an old-stone savage armed.
He moves in darkness as it seems to me~
Not of woods only and the shade of trees.
He will not go behind his father's saying,
And he likes having thought of it so well
He says again, "Good fences make good neighbors."
-Robert Frost