What's bad about the way I did this is I am now, once again, getting wrapped up in these articles. Some of this stuff is really fascinating, and I find myself being enveloped in the text all over again, even though I don't need to, because I've made copious notes and underlined all the important stuff.

Come on West Coasters! I need entertainment! Your day's not over yet!

I shall entertain you. I will rant about my trip to Home Depot.

It began by my starting to turn into a parking space and realizing that I couldn't park there because someone had abandoned a cart, strategically arranged so as to block four spaces.

Home Depot apparently has the marketing theory that you're more likely to buy something if you whack your shins on it, so they have all this stuff in the aisle. Then a fellow shopper carefully lines up her card next to the stuff, and stands there, apparently lost in the immensity of her decision. Since I can't talk, I couldn't get her attention to move her cart. Fortunately, that also means she didn't hear me say, "Move, motherfucker, or I'll cut you."

A worker moved a big rack of plants so as to trap me in an aisle of plants.

A woman stood in the middle of the aisle of a cell phone, asking someone very loudly if she should buy four verbena plants.

I was behind two women who were buying plants for, they said, a subdivision. There was one big flat handtruck of dyed weed-block pine bark mulch, and another covered with about 60 plants.

Oh, Ginger. I hate your Home Depot!

Me too. It's less than a mile from my house, though. It's dreadful but convenient. It's like that old joke, "This food tastes terrible -- and there's not enough of it."

The people looking at the place thought the very fishy very garlicky food smelled good. Darn my newly acquired culinary skills!

Ginger, that's sucky. Did you run anyone over with the cart?

Did you run anyone over with the cart?

I thought about it, particularly after I fought my way out of the plant trap.

Next time, you'll have to make cabbage, sj.

Next time, you'll have to make cabbage, sj.

I'll make a note of that. Really, I'm just doing them a favor. They really don't want to get trapped into this place with a non-functional condo association and the screaming upstairs neighbors.

Sooooo.... we have been having the house concerts here for over a year and the promotions have been on our local egroup this entire time. and suddenly I get a - you can't put this on the egroup because it is a solicitation. Why now?

Ginger needs a bicycle bell to attach to her shopping cart.

beth, that's just dumb. It's not a solicitation, it's an announcement. Pssht.

vw, I'm sorry, but I'm not very entertaining. I don't even have any funny stories to tell.

sj, you should have asked the people where they were moving from, that you and TCG are looking for a place to live in a little peace.

Suzi, much ma for your job sitch.

Vortex, I can't say better than the versions you were given. I'm sorry it's a sticking point in getting your job done, though. You have my permission to remove the offender's ears with a quick stroke of your rapier wit and present them to her on a bed of endive and orzo.

juliana, good luck on departing your old job and assuming your new job with equanimity. And go party with DJ and relevant SFistas, party for those of us who can't be there.

All best luck on the yard sale Empress, and health-ma to Em.

Cash, StY missed several of his 10-month markers, and H and I naturally had to consider the worst-case scenario. The truth was, those were simply behaviors we hadn't asked of him or shown him. Once we did, he was up to the mark. I'm sure Owen is moving at a pace he considers entirely appropriate. I understand the unease, but others today have given such excellent advice. I'ma just pat your hand and tell you to trust what you know about your boy.

OOh, cheddar quakes. Must get some now, before tv.