Small Mysteries.

I have a Reader’s Digest subscription. Apparently. I didn’t buy it. I don’t know who did. However, it’s been showing up for three months now. It appears to be a year-long subscription good til December 2006. They arrive and keep getting added to my pile of books and things to read. Reader’s Digest is reading for my parents’ house. Reading it here would feel odd. Maybe Mom subscribed for me as a gift. I can’t imagine any of my friends doing it, and the name and address are completely correct, so I’m pretty sure it’s not an accident.

I like Reader’s Digest. So many different kinds of things to read between one cover. Although they also have those stories about animals who are rescued from dire circumstances and then go on to enrich the lives of the people who save them (or the animal saves the people’s lives), and then the animals die. And I cry. Stupid stories.

I should remember to ask Mom some time…


I’m no psychologist, but somehow knitting a scarf for your internet stalker seems like a bad idea.

I heard my brother laugh this morning. That was good.

Grills: WHY?

My mother eats cookies upside down. She doesn’t seem to think there’s anything wrong with this.