Knocking Around

Here's another thing about that feather table runner: I don't even have a table to put it on!  The kitchen table is square, the dining table is in the garage (but it's round anyway.)  The only reasonable place would be on the mantel, but you wouldn't be able to see it.

The temperature here is supposed to be in the nineties in a day or two;  I do loathe Spring and Summer so.  Thankfully, all my errands and appointments for the week are done so I can stay in and under the ceiling fans.

Have you been seeing the [near constant] commercials for "Book Club"?  I find the premise of the thing kind of offensive, really, but, man, I am a huuuge Candice Bergen fan.  When Dale and I moved here from Tuscaloosa, I couldn't find my copy of her memoir, Knock Wood, and it bothered me for so long.  Cleaning out the garage after Dale died, I found it.  It isn't clear how I missed it in all the unpacking, but there it was.  It's one of the best, most well-written, enjoyable autobiographies I've ever read.