The Adventures of Roberta X

     I dunno.      It's what happens when I clean a couple of fountain pens with a quick dip in distilled water and then drop a squ...

     It takes a picture every two seconds, and tags it and indexes it, too.  And they'd like to sell you one.      I'm not sure if...

After: ETA: I'm surprised no one noticed the airplane. Before:

     Sunday, as the storms roared through, I had the pleasure of introducing Tam to the Orson Welles "free-form documentary," F Fo...

     To Veronica Varlow, Sail -ing her way between nostalgia and the unguessable future . (Snark aside, it's a nice listen, somewhere be...

     Tam and I cleared the front yard yesterday, raked up all the leaves.  Viola!  Well, more of a cello, really, lumbering and sad as a sma...

     The news was full of images from a circling helicopter over Ball State University last night, police cars from at least three differen...

     Only a spy agency would find one of its own dead, padlocked into a gym bag in his own bathtub, and declare it to be "most probably...

     The Optimist declares this is the best of all possible worlds.      The Pessimist fears he is right.      The Persimmon is a fru...

     Half of a conversation, anyway, as a large and striped yellow tomcat stands up and pats the edge of the table, hoping I won't notic...

     The Wall Street Journal piece on stopping the next publicity-seeking fool with a firearm that I linked to Sunday last is now seeing w...

     It's 19° F this morning.  Nineteen degrees!  Okay, okay, Indiana is well north of the sunshine line -- Tam still calls the region ...