Currently Reading:

Desert Solitaire
by Edward Abbey


As promised, I bring you France. Not all of France, mind you — just the parts that we visited. In part to enhance my paltry language skills, and in part because turning thirty is a fine excuse for extravagant exploration in warmer climes, my lovely housemate and I escaped this month to the land of wine and cheese. And what fine wine and cheese it was. We started the adventure in Paris, visited friends in Lyon, and then spent a few fine days on the beach in Antibes and hiking near Cassis. We finished the trip of with a stop in Avignon. A whirlwind tour, as they say, but a good trip. I have done my best to roll my biological odometer with at least a modicum of style.

Spring Thaw

While I ordinarily encourage a certain aura of mystery around my doings, it has recently come to my attention that certain friends and family believe me to be dead. This is not, in fact, the case, although I have been taking more than my fair share of naps lately. It has also been, in most respects, a pretty full spring.
For starters, three extra mammals have moved into my house, for a staggering total of sixteen individual feet prowling about the house. That’s a lot of feet, but it’s a big house and we all get along fairly well. There has been a lot of magic in the yard over the last few months. One of the cool things about moving into the new house has been seeing what sorts of things the former residents thought about gardening. All sorts of colorful surprises at every turn. We’ve also taken to implanting some color of our own and tearing up a pretty sizable garden plot, currently encouraging the production of tomatoes, beans, peas, lettuce, carrots, melons, cucumbers, and an improbable number of dandelions. If dandelions were a cash crop, I could retire by now.
We’ve also been to France and back. More about that later…