I once saw a man with so many calluses on his hands that they didn't look human. In addition to this, it looked like the calluses had been shredded, giving his hands the texture of one of those cross-hatched breakfast cereals. I wonder what he did (or does) for a living. It is this time of year that my own hands start to give me problems. Over the years, I have found that cold weather, in conjunction with newsprint, leads to cracked and bleeding hands. I tend to go through a lot of band-aids during the cold months. I'm reasonably sure that a couple of times I've inadvertently delivered band-aids to subscribers along with their papers. As I type this, my hands are in pretty good shape. There are a lot of dry patches on them that will give me trouble during the coming months, but there are no fissures.

I cleaned the frog cage today, so he'll have everything looking and smelling its best when he slows down for the winter. I'm still not sure exactly what kind of frog he is. He's a treefrog, but not a local variety. I think he might be a Cuban tree frog. He used to be the mascot for an algebra class. They even had the poor taste to name him Algefrog. I guess they got tired of him, because somebody donated him to the museum. Since he's antisocial and incredibly quick, it was determined that he would not make a good museum frog. This is why he now resides on top of the dresser behind me. I've had him around two years now.

Outside, the full moon scatters its borrowed light across the night.

cds I listened to while getting hit by moonlight: Ammer/Einheit/Haage "Apocalypse Live", The Gathering "Superheat" and "if_then_else", Coil "Stolen and Contaminated Songs", and Ani Difranco "Up Up Up Up Up Up"

now: Ani Difranco "Reckoning, Revelling"