Monday has come and gone and I have absolutely nothing to show for it. Besides watching a reality tv show about the ice skater Johnny Weir. Oh, and when I took my friend to the grocery store, I spied then picked up a gorgeous hunk of meat to finally make the Julia Child pot roast on Wednesday. So there. I have the meat two days ahead of time and it had nothing to do with Mr. Meatman. Mr. Meatman is a wispy, curling foggy vision of the past, wafting away into nothingness, about as good as gone as your breath on a cold night. Speaking of which, it is cold here again.

And I did discover that chicken pot pie over toast is not nearly as good as chicken pot pie under crust.

And I have a washed dog.

Oh, and you know how things interest me? Well, I read in the paper who won the Golden Globes. It interested me to see that the only two movies I've watched in the past year, more or less, both won best actor awards. Meryl Streep for Julia Child and Robert Downey for Sherlock Holmes. My grandfather loved Herlock Holmes, who doesn't? But for a period of time of great length when I was a kid, he insisted I read The Hound of the Baskervilles. He gave me the book and everything. I never read it. One of my great regrets in life, because he didn't ask much and I feel I let him down. Even worse, after I had to keep saying, No, to his question, Have you read the Hound?, or fudging, at which I am terrible, I finally lied and said, Yes. I can't remember, but he probably asked questions and I probably changed the subject. Okay, true confessions. Do you think if I read it now, that would do any good? Yes, I think I must read it soon. Wonder where it is.

So, I guess you could say the dailyness of life, or the awareness of such dailyness, has ground me to a perfect halt. Can't get motivated for anything for two consecutive days. If anyone wants to tell me what this is all about, I'm all ears.

Another thing, I'm SO HUNGRY all the time. Cold weather is definitely not good for my figger. What can I go eat?

Shall we try this again tomorrow?

We shall,
KEM