This weekend brought us crystal blue skies filled with leaves flipping down from the trees and skittering across the ground. It's been pretty cool in the evenings, which is just the way I like it. The cold that we had during the week left the door open on its way out, and another cold pushed its way in before we could close it. Round two is much like round one. More snot. More headaches.

Speaking of snot and headaches, I don't like the fact that the U.S. government is making rumbling noises about "Weapons of Mass Destruction" in Iran. This, of course, will be the next target if the ever manage to "secure" Iraq. It's pretty transparent really. Take over Iraq, and then use it as a base from which to strike out at everybody else in the region. It's going to be a long four years, and I'm sure the mess will haunt us for the forseeable future.

Meanwhile, glaciers all over the world are starting to melt. Welcome to the 21st century. Now go home.

What's a person to do? I went and sold some books to get money to buy gifts for the holidays. Actually, I traded books for store merchandise because they only pay cash for hot ticket items ("Da Vinci Code," the lady told me). I also went and played scientist at a birthday party. The birthday boy, who was only nine, recited the whole periodic table for me. I can't even do that. And finally, G. and M. and I got together to rehearse for the irr.app.(ext.) shows now looming on the horizon. I even bought a couple of new nose flutes to replace the dozen or so I've lost, given away, or inadvertently destroyed.

Meanwhile, Jen made lots more stuff for the craft faire, Willow said more new words and ate some paint, The Dickens pooped in her pants and called people names, and the boys made messes and revised their dietary requirements for the umpteenth time. Chaos reigns. Poverty threatens. Christmas displays mysteriously appear, beckoning to the unwary. Most of the time we're too busy to notice.