I sometimes think it all lives in me—everything I’ve seen and experienced, all the people I’ve known.

Mother's Day. It's coming up real quick and I've been charged with buying the greatest musical gift of all: Windchimes.
For the past four years, every Mother's Day, Birthday, I think even a couple of Christmas mornings, my dear old Mom has gotten a cross from me and Dereck. She has a wall of them (wall 'o crosses)in our home right above our antiquated jukebox. I think she just finally got wore out of the same thing over and over, yet I still get a package of socks. Life's funny like that, but I still appreciate it.

Twin Peaks. Matin Jane and I watched the first two episodes of the first season last night. I forgot how much that show disturbed and intrigued me. I've been on this early 90's T.V. trip lately (a la Northern Exposure). Now If I could only find the first season of Thirty-something and Coach, I'd been in heaven.

Finals. Writing papers for Baird on Bob Dylan and for Armintor on Historical Fiction. Two things I'm lukewarm about, but I shall prevail.

Manos Hands of Fate. Jane bought it for me.