Looking out the window again.

My brother is arriving at 6 am Monday. SO SOON! I’m doing laundry, vacuuming Giles detritus from the floor, and washing dishes. Then I’ll go play librarian for a couple hours before heading off to a birthday party this evening. I am in charge of picking up a Mocha Fudge Cream Torte from Cafe Latte. I’ve had their Tres Leches cake, and it is DIVINE. I must try their cupcakes soon.


  1. reading Ik Marvel’s _Reveries of a Bachelor_ (1850), saw a quote on the author’s dog Carlo and thought you might like it. Though it suggests that bachelors don’t get attached (completely) to their dogs in the mid-nineteenth century… ie. that a dog is better to get attached to than a person, since the heartbreak is LESS painful (what?!) than with a human:

    “It is very little pleasure one takes in fondling brute favorites [he has just called over his dog Carlo to the fire at this point]; but it is a pleasure that when it passes, leaves no void. It is only a little alleviating redundance in your solitary heart-life, which if lost, another can be supplied.”

    !!!! Plus all nineteenth-century American literary types seem to name their dogs Carlo. So weird.

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