Weather: pretty

Reading: just finished Iron Shadows, by Steven Barnes

Listening to in the car: Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus (I am the last person on this planet to read that book.)

Take a look at this picture and tell me whether you see a ghost. There is supposed to be a ghost in it, but I can't see her. I am jealous. I want to see the ghost, too.

I love my new house. I love it except for all the boxes sitting around in it. They are getting emptied gradually, but man! DO we ever have a lot of stuff! There are no way enough cupboards or shelves or closets to hold all this stuff. I see a lot of Gregg's junk that I am sure no one will ever need. He sees a lot of my stuff that no one will ever need, but of course he is wrong. All of my stuff has great value, intrinsic and extrinsic.

I have a couple of violins I never play, and he has a couple of clarinets he never plays. We have a guitar and a drum and a bunch of tin whistles and woodwinds and pictures and papers and books. Lotta lotta papers. ANd boxes. I have a big sewing kit and I don't sew. Gregg has a chess set and five or seven chess books but he doesn't play chess. I have a couple of bushels of yarn and I don't knit. We have clothes we don't like, and clothes that don't fit. We have broken things, I bet. I couldn't find my mouse, so I bought a new one. This will, of course, help me to locate my mouse.

I still can't see the darned ghost. It's irritating.