Here I sit at my computer desk at the end of another day. Edmund is perched on top of the desk, sunning himself under the lights of the ceiling fan and looking beatifically down upon his chosen human.

All is well here in my quiet little corner of the world. Jeff is curled up in bed, reading Iain Banks' Use Of Weapons. I'm pleased that he's finally getting addicted to this lovely (and unfortunately, mostly out-of-print) science fiction series. Mostly, I just want someone to talk to about what I'm reading.

I heard on the radio this afternoon that Harry Watters passed away this morning. It's a peculiar world we live in; I don't know the names of the people who own the house across the street from me, but I felt sadness when someone I'd never actually met had passed away. An explanation: Harry Watters was the host of a radio show on WLRH, Huntsville's local NPR affiliate. So no, I'd never met him, but because of the way he conducted his show, I learned bits and pieces about him and his family, and gained a sense of the person behind the voice.

Once you have experienced some kind of personal loss in your life, it is impossible [I think] not to be at least a bit touched when you see others going through the same thing. There are many bad things about humanity, but our capability for empathy is one of our redeeming graces.

[side note: I've got an awful lot of recipes sitting on top of my scanner right now. I need to get those typed into my database. sheesh, something else for the to-do list.]

I'm a compulsive list-maker at heart. I bounce from to-do list to to-do list. Yes, they're useful for day-to-day life, but I realize that at times I probably rely on them a bit too much. I'm scatterbrained; I'm the first to admit that, but I think sometimes I tend to retreat to the safety of my lists because they help me create some semblance of order in my life. How else am I going to remember…

• to buy upholstery tacks, dishwashing detergent, and two window sconces?
• to put the green underskirt on the guest bed before Friday?
• to clean the guest bathtub?
• to put a few rolls of toilet paper and a bar or two of soap in the guest bath?

I try, but I always manage to forget things. There are few things in life that I hate more than the sinking feeling I get when I think, "I forgot."

In other news, Edmund is making a great show of cleaning his toes. It's very distracting, trying to think while there are all these kitty licking and nibbling noises going on six inches from my face.

I also went outside this evening and looked at the plants. The new seedlings are sprouting nicely. It looks like I'll have to start watering the basil twice a day, though, to keep it from wilting a bit every day. It just doesn't seem to tolerate the heat as well as some plants. Here's the final tally of what's growing outside:

• two pots of rosemary
• two pots of dill
• one pot thyme
• two pots savory
• one pot broadleaf sage
• one pot parsley
• one pot basil
• one pot oregano

Next up in the planting: I need to repot one of the pots of savory into something bigger. I also need to start the second batch of basil seeds, too. I wish I were growing more; these will all start disappearing so quickly once I start harvesting them. I know that I'm wanting to do some serious landscaping work in the backyard next spring—I'm thinking that I'll want to plant a more serious herb garden. I've got a stash of rosemary seeds that I may start later this year so that I can plant them outside next spring. I would _really_ like some bay laurel shrubs. I'd like to have some mint, some catnip (was that a purr?), some tarragon, and chives. I hear that fennel will grow here, too.

So much to do. I really should sketch out what I want. I suspect I'll be spending a lot of time playing in the dirt next spring.