Note: this is one of those entries slowly written over a long period of time, done in piecemeal whenever there is a few minutes repose from what I ought to be doing. These patchwork posts tend to be a bit incoherent. I don’t edit them much, as the tangents have their charms I suppose.  – Spo

My brain seems to have snapped a tether as it is inoperable at the moment. Normally it flits about like a hummingbird but not this week. Perhaps it is the heat. We are having record highs (again) and this makes any actions foolish – best to just sit around in ones boxers and not move nor think. I looked up the average age of a hummingbird: it is 3-5 years*.  It’s a miracle mine has lasted this long.


There’s been more turnover of staff at work. Currently the two incarnations of The Wonder Receptionist are two men. This is a new situation for Urs Truly. Usually I have young ladies handmaidens but they have been exchanged for a couple of male minions. The fellows are polite and obsequious; they address me as “Sir’ or “Dr. Spo”.  I address them with the title ‘Mister’ for I despise first name basis relationships especially in an iniquitous arrangement.. As a consequence we sound like  “Are you being served?”. They are Mr. Humphries and Mr. Lucas to my Captain Peacock. Both of them are well over four feet but also well under thirty years old and would not have a clue to this reference (hopefully older Spo-fans get the gist).  I mentioned this situation to Someone who shrugged and said perhaps they can get me a glass of water when I am vexed.


It has only taken two years but I think I am finally having the Helen Keller “wah-wah” metanoia in my Spanish lessons. I am reading at a sixth grade level; I hear a basic conversation in Spanish and get its points. Unfortunately I haven’t had much if any chance to actually speak Spanish. What comes out of my mouth could be labeled as comically painful.  It’s funny how small talk is quite easy to do in ones native tongue but when you try to do it in a new language I can’t think of anything to say other than how is your dog and what color is your hat – hardly worth asking.

Spo-fans will be happy to know I am nearly done sorting my recipe collection into taxonomies and editing out the redundancies and the now-sounding-not-so-good recipes.**  They cover the dining room table I think much to the chagrin of Someone. We’ve not used our dining room table in years so I don’t see why it can’t be put to use as a very large desk.  I hope soon to put them all in tidy well-organized brown accordion files and that concludes that stage in the process.  Then – make them?

I had a sudden revelation last week it’s not that I can’t manage time well it’s I want to do too much.

I have such a desire to knock heads together – I can’t remember now what that’s about but I daresay it is a discreet reference to FB statements or patience up to no good or something on CNN. Come to think of it just about everything on CNN makes me want to knock heads together or move to New Zealand.

It’s noon on Tuesday and I would give any thing for a bag of nasty chips with a big bowl of dip (rubbishy is OK) but I can’t because I am trying not to eat trash so I will have a lean cuisine page 71 indeed.

*I also looked up the average velocity of an unladen swallow. It is about 24 miles per hour or 11 meters per second.

**I see I tore out several versions of Coq au vin only to realize now it doesn’t sound worth it. Living in the Southwest with all its spicy chilies has made French cuisine dull and tasteless.