Pretty simple, really: shelves make me purr, Edmund hide, Tenzing deathly curious, and Jeff wish he could sit on the couch and do something else for a while.

Funny to think that I've been waiting three years to get all this figured out, when it seems so obvious now. Shelves, shelves, everywhere. Then, toss in enough furniture to make the room respectable, plus a few tables and some nice lighting, and suddenly you've got a room that isn't ignored, but enjoyed.

Since I've been doing little but coding lately, I thought I'd offer up a photo that has absolutely nothing to do with coding and everything to do with what really matters in this house—the cats. After all, you can't have 'domesticat' without the 'cat.' (Those perverse ones among you who sat up and said, "But you can't have 'domesticat' without an 'omesti'! Where's the picture of the omesti?"—you are not tall enough to ride this ride. Go away; you're bothering me.)

"The books we love do ruthlessly disclose something about us, as do the books we do not. And despite everything above, I am not certain I want to know what exactly my inability to read some great writers says about me."
- Tom Bissell, 'I'd prefer not to,' an essay published for Salon.com

I honestly thought I was the only one.I found the list of what someone, somewhere, decided was the 'hundred greatest books of the twentieth century' and, like the dutiful child I am, set out to 'better myself.'

Perhaps I loaned it to Kat? Perhaps I've placed it in some not-so-obvious place? Perhaps I'm overlooking it in my desperate attempt to find it?

Where is my copy of Excession?It's all Andy's fault, you see. He pointed me to Iain Banks' Culture series well over a year ago, saying, "Find these books and read them. You'll have difficulty getting them in the States, and the British trade paperback versions are much better, but do what you must."

Subjectline courtesy David Gray. I've been singing it this afternoon, after a chance encounter with the song on the radio. It's probably one of my favorites from this year.

I've been toying with how I wanted to start this entry; this, my official switching from everyday life to the frantic and frenzy that comes for preparing for a classic Domesticat RoadTrip. I've been at a loss for how to begin.

Ready or not, here we go. Geekfest number three officially drops into gear tomorrow. John flies in at just after two p.m., weather and planes and schedules and everything else permitting. He has our home number and my cell number, and hopefully I won't receive a call.

Calls from travelers generally aren't good news, so I'll hope for a silent phone tomorrow.

Not sure why I'm so quiet and tired and introspective about it all at this point. One might suppose it's my brain gearing up for what's going to be a long and tiring weekend. The house is ready for visitors—or, well, will be as soon as I tidy the kitchen tomorrow (always the chore that should wait until last). Guest bathroom's ready, as is the guest bedroom. The living room is generally tidied and picked up, despite my current thoughtline that says perhaps I should tidy the coffee table up a bit.