Monday afternoon blather

Those of us who read Poor Miss Finch are waiting with bated breath — it's almost baby time! We're so excited and wishing her a Spee-Dee Delivery. (Look at me. All twitter-pated about a baby. I'm falling apart.)

Oh, and Fyberduck, if you go all classical, I dare you to make an accurate aulos. (You could probably just glue two oboes together. I imagine it would sound the same.)

Breaking one nail leads, in rather quick succession, to biting off all the other nails that were surprisingly unbitten. Bah.

There's a classified going in the paper this week for The Other Job. If you'd like to work 12-15 hours per week, can use Word, Excel and the phone, let me know. I'll hook you up with Jesus.