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Plague, Sleep, and the stuff of dreams
My surviving cat has become very needy. If I am at home, she wanders around howling until she sees me and then crawls up onto my lap or alongside me in my chair, and won't be moved, except to occasionally get up and demand food if her bowl is empty. At what she considers bedtime, she'll demand that I get out of my chair, stop playing computer ( Read more... ) -
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For the vast majority of the past 30 years, I would have spent the 14th of February in as much of a holiday mood as possible. Penny and I would have traded off making fancy food items, though the amounts and complexity varied and had been greatly reduced for a while ( Read more... ) -
Coming on 6 years
Has it really been six years ( Read more... ) -
George Whitman, Bookstore Owner and Agent for Social Uplift, R.I.P.
"George Whitman, the US-born owner of Shakespeare and Company, a fabled English-language bookstore on the Left Bank in Paris and a magnet for writers, poets and tourists for close to 60 years, died yesterday in his apartment above the shop. He was 98 years of age."Interesting study but hasn't it already been proven?
http://www.gsb.stanford.edu/news/research/halevy_power_2011.html - about how there is an interaction between the authority provided to an individual by a job, and the perception of the status of that person ( Read more... )Goodbye, Dad. Rest quiet and I hope I'll see you later.
My father, William Bernard Hutchison, passed away this morning ( Read more... )This fits better here than in my ++google stream.
This came about because of a discussion (flamewar) I got involved with on ++Google. My old reflexes kicked in unfortunately, and I'm now going to avoid saying anything in anyone else's stream there, about anything of much interest or depth.
( So, here, because I can put it behind a cut, is my declaration about my ++G stream, which also applies to how I do things here in my own journal. )Brain Slug 1, Me 0
Over the past month and a half, I have had a chronic, annoying sensation of something sitting on my soft palate, as if it were a giant banana slug perched in my nasal passages, slowly taking over my brain ( Read more... )