I gave the locals first crack at these, but they've had their turn and now it's yours.

I have large quantities of the following that are free to a good home:

• whole savory
• whole fennel
• whole coriander
• pickling spice
• whole black pepper
• ground cayenne pepper
• whole cumin

If you are interested, speak up.

Me, to the cat this morning:  "I think I left my socks in the sink."

After I said it, it occurred to me that there were several problems with this statement, and as a result it totally preoccupied me on the way to work today:

I normally don't do this sort of thing, but I want to ask a favor of my book geek friends.

Are you planning on going to Barnes & Noble anytime soon?  If you are, a moment of free kindness on your part can help out a library system I care a lot about:

Barnes & Noble and the Huntsville Library Foundation have joined forces to give you the unique opportunity to get holiday gifts for the booklovers on your list... and support the Huntsville-Madison County Public Library in the process!

I can tell you what I'm working on.  Sort of.

Anyone who has called the house in the past week -- and for those of you who have called in the evenings this past week to keep me company while Jeff's working insane-o hours, I thank you dearly -- knows that I've been hard at work on a quilt.

Here's the problem:  technically, I shouldn't post pictures.  Why?  It's intended for someone whom I know reads this site. 

Ever have a moment where you read over what you've just written and realize why your co-workers think you're a little touched in the head?  I just did:

This coder is new to me.  This means I can't vouch for his development style.  I have no idea if he uploads barely-finished dev versions expecting the userbase to do major crash-testing, or if he is cautious and only makes code available right before a stable release, expecting only minor tweaks from the userbase.  3.x could be barely usable or it could be almost finished.  Dunno.

Later on...

Since pixels don't come with smell-o-vision, I must tell you that these words are being typed in a quiet house that smells of fresh salsa and roasting bell peppers.  The laptop (old, beaten up) is positioned so as to block out the setting sun, which does not come directly through my front door but close enough to force my pupils to readjust.  I have a small party to be at in an hour's time.  I must not be late, so I must write fast and speak rightly the first time.

The place, now: Huntsville, Alabama.
The place, then: rural Arkansas.