My brother once gave me instructions on how to eat without spilling food on my shirt. This is an excrutiating nightmare. I am, to paraphrase lawrence ferlinghetti, "waiting for the rebirth of wonder--adult bibs!" This is why I love lobster, there is always the plastic bib. I do extend napkins over my shirt, but Kenneth Cole cannot always protect him/herself in this regard.
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hello again
I am contemplating doing a blog connection to Twitter. Twitter, btw, is great for news happenings. And there are many good bloggers who are also connected to it.
Well, ya'll, I have to admit--I finally succumbed to the iPhone. It's wonderful. It's like having George Orwell's nightmare in your hand 24/7. But the other hand enjoys access to information. I am still reading Joyce Carol Oates in a real book as I glance at the world through a small window.
BTW: Joyce's newest collection of short stories, Sourland, is friggen amazing. Poignant, as they say. And I just received her memoir about her husband Ray Smith dying. In the below photo that I took, she is reading from this book, A Widow's Story: