Odds & Ends

The Boy had his stitches removed yesterday morning. The scarring should be minimal. Saint Thomas did a very nice job. While we were at the hospital, Em reminded me that he is not one hundred percent potty-trained.

Today is Geoff’s birthday. If there is anything worse than Valentine’s Day it is having your birthday fall on it.

I’ve read the first two stories in William Gay’s I Hate to See that Evening Sun Go Down. Simply remarkable.

Aunt Rhonda sent Em some foldin’ money for the holiday.

The sun just came out.

My stomach is growling. It sounds like the Hamburglar is camped out in there.

I’m still reeling from last Thursday’s Gillian Welch and David Rawlings show at The Station Inn. One of the top ten shows I’ve seen. Worthy of an entry all its own.

L. and I went to Antonio’s for dinner last night.

I gave up sweets and chips for Lent and I’m not even Catholic.

Was anyone besides me shocked that Brian Wilson didn’t fall over during the finale on last night’s Grammy Awards?

And hearing Jack White say “Yes Ma’am” to Loretta Lynn was just wonderful.

I haven’t had time to read the Sunday paper. Nor last Sunday’s.

I doubt I missed anything.