Swirl crochet disaster.

[I take it as a sign of something or another when the girl who grew up (at least partly) in Buffalo gets out her camera to take pictures of this kind of dusting, simply because it's the first substantial snow of this academic year.]

Sometimes, I blatantly misread things. Today, at the post office, I received a six-inch stack of catalogs--I basically received only catalogs while I was away. On the back of the top one was an item I swore was billed as a "Swirl Crochet Disaster." It turned out, of course, to be a "Swirl Crochet Duster." But I think my misreading was better; that particular garment really is a disaster.

On my way home yesterday, I passed a church (the same church that refused to say Happy Holidays, in fact) that had a sign reading, "You can't catch bees with vinegar."

A candy wrapper today told me, "Decorate your life."

A friend's fortune, just before Christmas, told him (and then me, since I promptly photocopied it for my office door), "Plan your work and work your plan."

You see how I'm charging up with strange aphorisms. Tomorrow, perhaps I'll tell you a real story.