Good thoughts headed your sister's way, Trudy.
'Shells'
Natter 66: Get Your Kicks.
Off-topic discussion. Wanna talk about corsets, pandas, duct tape, or physics? This is the place. Detailed discussion of any current-season TV must be whitefonted.
Jesse, can I have some of your apple-pear crisp?
Probably! I made kind of a lot. Come on over! It's better than letting the fruit rot, I guess -- I just don't eat fruit, even when I mean to.
DOCTOR
FINE. If I don't feel any better by Monday, I will call and get the first available appointment.
Good thoughts head to Trudy's sister.
Bad thoughts headed to she-who-must-not-be-named.
Huh. This school show ended with them showing all the cool new science things that Microsoft donated to the science classroom, and the reading room paid for by People Magazine, and the sports fields paid for by an athletic equipment company, and then one of the show host people saying how the lesson they learned is that "Communities can make our own change; we don't have to rely on anyone else."
The local People Magazine! Of course! Why don't other schools think of that?
Crisp = highly successful. I kind of want to eat the whole thing right now.
Well, it is best when fresh from the oven...
I had seconds and am now sated. Phew. Maybe I'll make a pear-apple crisp for Sunday. (I have more pears left than apples, now.)
Farm to CSA pickup to my oven. Mmmmmmm squash and eggplant.
I will have an empty nest next week - CJ is spending his fall break in California. So far my big plans - cleaning house. Man, I need a life.
I think next year for the marathon, I want to set up an unofficial station. Or volunteer with one on the street. I'm not a runner, but I grew up being dad's pit crew for various races and triathalon, and I guarantee I WILL tear up tomorrow, partly because of that, partly because of watching the neighborhood come out and be all crazy supportive. Wanna be a part of that. At mile 22 last year, runners were collapsing out in the median or people's yards. Folks in the houses on 33rd were out bringing blankets, pillows, propping feet up on crates, watering and talking to them until the medics could tend to them. Even the guys in the house who pretty much live on their porch drinking 40s and smoking were being encouraging, in their own trashy way.
Shit like this makes me love my city.