Ouch. Also: Ow.
In Which Your Humble Blogger is screaming out loud all the time I write and so is my brother which takes off my attention rather and I hope will excuse mistakes.
Category: navel gazing
The Kitniyot Problem
In Which Your Humble Blogger ponders the deep question, the one about toaster waffles.
One, two, three, four, five senses working overtime
In Which Your Humble Blogger peers through a glass, dimly.
It’s good for you, eat it!
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In Which Your Humble Blogger does not, actually, connect this to the bizarre political nonsense about Our Only First Lady’s garden and the secret socialist plot to make everyone eat broccoli.
The Old Ways Pass
In Which Your Humble Blogger thinks in general terms, before writing up the post on the new mix for the new show.
Time, passing
In Which Your Humble Blogger observes nine years, which is, after all, nearly ten.
Chappy Chanukah!
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In Which Your Humble Blogger let the sun go down.
Grfts for GMNG
In Which Your Humble Blogger hasn’t actually purchased anything today, mostly out of laziness.
I’ve got a little list, except I don’t anymore
In Which Your Humble Blogger doesn’t write up the ranty ranty rant about how mad I am that Google made all my old notes disappear and made me work like hell to get them back. Gr.
Alfred
In Which Your Humble Blogger posts from a warm, dry place near a working electrical outlet.