Recently I learned that V-8 juice is an unsatisfactory accompaniment to peanut butter on crackers. Must be some bad chemistry there.
Mad Mike called early this afternoon. You will remember that he's in Hawaii. I had flaked out for a nap but my wife caught the call. So, he calls from Maui to get a phone number out there in the islands for a supermarket because he wants to lay in some typhoon supplies and a pair of tin snips to cut a cast off one of the boys. Don't ask … I think it had something to do with cell-phone minutes.
And my niece reports from the other side of the world, England. She has, she says, seen the Tate, Westminster Abbey, Big Ben, and London Eye, whatever that may be. Plus, she's been to a 1920s theme party with a friend. How is it that all these people are in faraway places doing exciting things while I'm not?
And my primo went to the opera in Santa Fe last weekend, said it was great.
On the other hand, here in paradise, a friend brought by a ham from a wild pig. I'll find something to do with that.