Well no wonder the symptoms of hayfever have been edging around the prophylactic inhaler's defense: local tree pollen counts are apparently in the high range, and said pollen is what I'm most allergic to. Not that I should be surprised, what with the same thing happening ever year to me since 3rd grade. Still, every spring it seems as inappropriate as ever.

In other news, the secret of the baked ziti is that Mrs The Fyd supplies it, and supplies a generous measure that gets frozen for my occasional (if more than occasional recently) self-indulgence. And an indulgence it is, what with containing sour cream, provolone, mozarella, and parmesan, from a recipe Mrs The Fyd adapted from one found on the internets.

The other secret of the baked ziti is that it contains no ziti: as Mrs The Fyd says "I don't even know what ziti looks like" and neither do I. It contains rotini instead, and that is important because rotini also ends in "i".

The final secret to my enjoyment of baked ziti is that it was mentioned so often in earlier episodes of The Sopranos and I am a dork. As Anthony Jr said, "What, no fuckin' baked ziti?"

Roxanne's suggestion about getting rid of abandoned cars is a good one, but if I ever need to use it I must be sure the political candidate is not a Republican, as I wouldn't want to make any inadvertent campaign donations.