I have house guests. They are not unwelcome and they are unassuming, but nevertheless I find myself creeping about the house like one of the cats, hoping not to bump into them in the hallways. I drove around last night and considered going to the local pub, until I called my fellow homeowner and confirmed that the house was empty and they were out for dinner. And I suspect the same is true for them. I keep seeing doors close just as I climb the stairs, we instinctively and politely turn away in the mornings so that I don't have to reveal my unmade-up face and they don't have to disclose the condition of their pajamas. What is it that makes humans so wary of each other? Or perhaps it's just me--I'm especially neurotic? My cats are also wary but they have instinctual excuses.

Puzzling Jobs

Sometimes my job (copy-editing) involves the oddest things. Today I had to edit a crossword puzzle, of all things. At first I resisted the task, having developed an allergy to word and memory games from years of teenage humiliation in Trivial Pursuit and all kinds of card games. But then I started to understand how it worked, and the pieces fell into place, and it was actually kind of fun. So...I think I will give this a try again. Maybe I'll start with the Monday NY Times crossword and see how it goes. It's supposed to be good for your memory, after all. Old dogs need to learn new tricks.

Observations on the Weather

The New Year came in like a lion...a crazy sea lion, to be exact, hurling itself against the California shores as if it wanted to claw its way onto dry land. The eucalyptus trees thrashed in such a fury that I had the feeling, tucked under the sloped roof of my galley-like bedroom, of being in a very small boat on a very fierce ocean, and expected the floor to start swaying beneath me at any moment. Oh wait, that would be a California earthquake.