Long Weekend
Go Out And Listen

There Goes The Tardis

We're watching Doctor Who, the most recent doctor, I think. He and Rose Martha Rose (no, really! Dennis! and Measi say so) are tracking some evil force that's inhabiting a little girl and drawing pictures that seem to snatch children and pets.

Creepy. But the Doctor is pretty cute.

A week or so ago I went grocery shopping and was immediately seduced by a lovely box of Clementines. This happens every year. I see that darling little crate full of bright orange fruit, and it looks just scrumptious, and then it sort of leaps into the cart. I eat one when I get home, and then a half-dozen stop trying and go bad. Five of the six develop big, soft brown spots, but the other one puts on a nice thick coat of prenatal penicillen mold and sticks to the box.

Then the acetone-y stinky rotten citrus smell of recalcitrant Clementines fills the air. So Christmassy, don't you think? So I eat two a day, just to get my money's worth. At least they're tasty!

The other day I took delivery of my five-year service award. A few weeks ago I got a package. I wasn't expecting anything, so I ripped it open with great curiousity and glee. It was a framed certificate, accompanied by a nice letter telling me to go to a website and choose my prize. My special secret code gave me access to all of the five-year prizes, including a pearl ring, an inflatable bed, various watches, single golf clubs. I chose this very nice suitcase:


It has all kinds of nice extras, too -- a suit bag, a toiletry case, lotsa pockets. It will replace my poor fuel-injected bag, which is still outside and still smells like Eau de Jetfuel. I will have to embellish it somehow, to distinguish it from all the other black rolling bags in the universe. Any suggestions?