So this morning I decide I'll make a concession to S.'s current conversation obsession--bagels--and take him out to breakfast at Bruegger's. We get into the car, slam the doors in unison, and the back windshield crumbles to bits and drops out.
Huh.
A bang, not a whimper
Two months into L.'s retirement, and I'm finished with the stockpiling of books. No more book purchases! Or at least, no purcha...
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(See also Musee des Beaux Arts ) As far as mental anguish goes, the old painters were no fools. They understood how the mind, the freakiest ...
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Lou wondered where his information would go when he died. Would filaments of learning plant patterns on earth? Would his brain train the sin...
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