In Which Your Humble Blogger winds up writing about Alex, actually, although he is not mentioned by name.
In Which Your Humble Blogger keeps on reading, or rather kept on reading, as this was months ago. Will I catch up by December 31st?
In Which Your Humble Blogger gets comfy, although what I really could use is one of those trays that goes across the tub, you know? that you can rest your tea mug on, and a book, and maybe a little bud vase.
In Which Your Humble Blogger thinks there’s probably something funny in it, but can’t quite put the old proverbial on it. Oh, I know, it’s where people say things that aren’t true! That’s always funny.
In Which Your Humble Blogger could also mention the question of day trading, and then there’s the woman who I think is just insane, but expensively so.
In Which Your Humble Blogger digs in to futility for the hopefulness therein.
In Which Your Humble Blogger rants a bit, and then leaves the note half-finished for a long time until he can’t quite remember where he was going with it. Ah, well.
In Which Your Humble Blogger enjoys the book, in the end, although it’s my least favorite of hers I’ve read so far.
In Which Your Humble Blogger starts doing that thing where he catches up by not writing very much.
In Which Your Humble Blogger humbly asks for assistance in an important aspect of child-rearing.