57073--Where Malida preaches on the evils of the american diet between bites of her hamburger...

...and chunks of crispy onion ring. The irony was so thick you could have spread it like creamery butter on a warm blueberry muffin.

I am in the midst of a four-day weekend. It's relaxing. I spent a good chunk of yesterday moving things around. We now have a reading room where our underutilized living room used to be. I put a bookcase, the old brown couch, and a reading lamp in one of the corners. I stocked the bookcase with my favorite books. I thought about how most of the books I buy now are e-books, and thought about whether I should put my kindle on the bookshelf too. I can't bear to think of physical books becoming obsolete, relegated to collector status like LPs. Maybe I can put up another shelf form my LPs and call it a museum.



Mook immediately claimed the corner as her new favorite spot. I should move some of her cat toys and a scratcher out there.

Yesterday's post was much more brief than I had planned. I was going to talk about those two watchers, and the wooden jar they watch over, which contains my grandfather's ashes (or the ones that we didn't scatter). As soon as I started to write, it all sounded wrong. Don't know why. Some days the words come so easily, and others they don't. Today is an in-between day.