The little O-shaped pasta in a tasty tomato sauce that kids love
In Which Your Humble Blogger is not really fit for human company, and should go back to bed. Again.
Book Report: An Uncommon Reader
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In Which Your Humble Blogger doesn’t complain at length about strep throat. But, as long as you are bringing it up, are any of you inclined to write it in all caps, as STREP throat? It seems to me like it should be an acronym, rather than a shortening. Sore Throat with Really Excruciating Pain, perhaps.
Pretty Polly
In Which Your Humble Blogger pretty much just rambles about the primary, to no purpose or result.
two-shot, both survive
In Which Your Humble Blogger ruins it for everybody. Again? Yes, ruins it for everybody again.
fathers and husbands, in a house that is white
In Which Your Humble Blogger disagrees, despite a vague feeling that he will vote for the other one in a week and a bit.
Haftorah Yithro
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In Which Your Humble Blogger gets up on his tiptoes.
In the Widener classification system, books are classified by how close they are to the Hub
In Which Your Humble Blogger refrains from noting that they put the books on Scripture under the classification BS.
Book Report: Troublesome Young Men
In Which Your Humble Blogger views the past through the spectacles of the present, or views the present through the spectacles of the past, or perhaps I view the future through the spectacles of the past. The spectacles of the future, though, are those the mirrorshades?
16,000 and mostly in order
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In Which for all Your Humble Blogger knows, she may still be working at it.
Shadenfreude, where the shade doesn’t refer to anybody actually feeling bad about anything
In Which it is revealed that Genre is a matter of where you find the book, which presumably answers the earlier question about plays, which aren’t shelved at all.