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listen to the wind Before I went to sleep this morning, I broke down and turned on the heat in my house for the first time this season. As much as I like burying myself under a pile of blankets, I am not against using modern technology to keep warm. Plus hearing the heat blowing in down from the ceiling also tends to reduce the amount of shivering that I do. From what I saw on the television this early taste of winter will fade by the end of next week, but at the moment things are still a little cool. Generally speaking this was a good week for me. Nothing stands out in my mind to make it memorable, but I don't remember complaining about anything either. ... What disappoints me most about my writing here is that it never seems to fully capture everything that happens in the course of my day. So much is lost, but maybe that doesn't matter. What I mean is that so many people seem to be in continual movement with no regard for what has gone before. I, however, remember everything. It doesn't matter how important it may or may not be. All of it gets stored in my memory for future use. For example I could, if pressed, relay the entire conversation that Ann and Nicole had at work early on Friday night. It started out with Nicole saying that something stunk where she was sitting. Then she changed her mind and realized that it was her that smelled. It seems that she had been holding her bunny at home and it had gas. She was convinced that her shirt had been saturated with the smell. Then through some strange twist the topic changed over to a discussion of poop in general. Somehow they made the transistion from animal poop to baby poop. Within minutes Ann and Nicole were talking about what kinds of food made the poop that their respective children produce smell so awful. After some more discussion it was agreed upon that baby formula and carrots were at the top of the list. Now in retrospect none of this conversation has any real value to me, but I still remember it. What I found curious was hearing two grown women using the word poop over and over. Then again women often use the slightly silly word boobs to describe female anatomy rather than the word most preferred by men, breasts.
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