In Which Your Humble Blogger could probably just run a search on the names of the two authors; I would bet there’s an interview somewhere in which the one talks about the other.
In Which Your Humble Blogger may perhaps be starting on a new adventure, although perhaps not, and then of course it might snow.
In Which Your Humble Blogger wears a totally different style of hat, not that rolled-crown homburg thing that he seems to like these days, and besides, back when I started wearing hats, he hadn’t started wearing them yet, so really, it’s him imitating me more than me him, right?
In Which Your Humble Blogger finishes the year short four letters: U, V, X and Y. Well, that’s three letters, really, and frankly Y is kinda phony, too.
In Which Your Humble Blogger enjoys a book, thinks of a few monkey puns, and decides that discretion is probably the better whatsit of thingummy.
In Which Your Humble Blogger probably should have just picked up an Ellery Queen mystery, come to think of it.
In Which Your Humble Blogger has strong opinions.
In Which Your Humble Blogger gets a book right in his damn’ wheelhouse, is what.
In Which Your Humble Blogger spends the bulk of the note disagreeing with someone smarter and more knowledgeable than YHB.