
Two 60 kb servings of Beans for Breakfast Print Calendar, in your choice of letter size or A4 format:
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Two 60 kb servings of Beans for Breakfast Print Calendar, in your choice of letter size or A4 format:
Letter Size
A4 Format

A month just flew past and knocked me right over.

Nothing wrong with that, I guess.

A group of us met at Carkeek Park yesterday to make rock sculptures and take pictures. The group was comprised of bloggers and photographers, so it’s been well documented elsewhere.
My forensic investigation/car cleaning reveals the following about the strangers who were driving my car 250 miles between Saturday night — when they stole the car — and Monday night — when they were arrested for robbery and the car was impounded.
They accessed my car using a lock pick on a key chain. They ate at Jack in the Box and McDonalds and used the cup holders as ash trays. They bought drum sticks and Miller Genuine Draft beer at Safeway on Sunday at 6:00 pm. Some portion of their traveling was done at very high speeds. (Corrected in comments.) They filled the tank at least once and added at least one quart of motor oil to the engine. They emptied my CDs out of the CD changer and replaced them with their own, but they put the CDs in upside down, and listened to KUBE 93.3 FM instead.
The car is smelly, but probably fine. When accelerating from a stop, the engine makes a new puttering noise that makes me nervous. I’m hoping that will be it attributed to low oil, rather than some strain on the engine.
My new license plates say “TPS“. That’s one good thing.
Two things about National Public Radio:
![[Police Report]](http://www.struat.com/here/theft.jpg)
When I went out this morning to get my car, I found a yellow pickup in the spot where I’d parked. It had been stolen. It felt like there should have been more to it, but I don’t what I would expect that “more” to be. I paced around the neighborhood looking for it for twenty minutes, though I was certain that I’d left my car in that spot.
Half past a busy weekend, I stop at Bauhaus to catch my breath.
Somebody’s homework is spread across the table next to mine. But no one has been around to work on it since I sat down.
On my other side, a guy is typing an outline on his laptop. He stops to take a call on his cell phone. He talks first about lawn mowers, then about bunnies.
At the windowside bar, someone brings two glasses of iced Kool-Aid Italian sodas to the windowside bar. As she sets them down, they briefly catch light from the setting sun and focus two bright flashes of red light in my eyes.
I’m bringing the Using Books Weblog out of stealth mode with a response to Phil’s Book Meme post.
Now I have two weblogs to neglect.
It’s Friday. I just walked the two blocks to the post office to drop off the day’s packages and then walked half a block back to Vivace to relax and to try to do a little work. I open my laptop and it connects to the wireless network. I put together two emails, hit send, and get two error messages back: can’t connect to the mail server. I try loading a few different sites in a browser and can’t connect to anything. A neighbor is pecking away at a Google search result. He’s connected, so I poke around in my network settings. Airport status shows a yellow light: I’m connected, but I’m not connected. Reboot and nothing’s changed. At this point I could just work on something offline, but I can feel my brain going soft in my head and my drink isn’t caffeinated enough to get me recharged. I skim through help files, blindly change a couple of settings around, and reboot twice. In the end I’m online again. I’ve abandoned the thought of work. I load Bloglines and there’s nothing there for me to read. You can call that last one kharma.
A crow weighs down the end of a branch on a naked chestnut tree. With its beak, it snaps a twig from a smaller tributary branch and lets it drop to the sidewalk. It flaps over to another weak branch, and in a few short hops, makes its way to the branch’s narrow end, breaks off another twig and lets it fall. It repeats this two more times. On it’s last round, it finds the stick it wanted. It takes flight, carrying its stick away toward the west. It doesn’t return for its castoffs.