I have a drill, and I know how to use it!

I've had a marvelously relaxed weekend. Booboo visited yesterday. Dad took us out to Longmont's latest Italian restaurant. It is not as authentic as it claims, but it had very good salads (with freshmade dressing) and amazing desserts. Too bad it smells like cat, as my brother observed.

We had a hilarious conversation about creating a "New World" tiramasu. It started when my brother asked, "Is this cinnamon or cocoa," and it led to a culinary fantasy that cycled through a "Mexican chocolate" style dessert, to something bizarre made out of llama milk. We thoroughly confused my father. Probably because the recipe for "New World Desserts" was interspersed by a story about first contact between North American Natives and Vikings, an initially peaceful contact ruined by lactose intolerance.

I'm a little worried about my father. He's not as sharp as usual. Something about him seems foggy, or fuzzy. His physical health has been cause for concern since Thanksgiving. There haven't been any developments, just a fuzziness that makes me feel uncomfortable.

Our waiter went on about the Squaresville Theatre Company, not realizing he was speaking to a member of its former dynasty. There was an irritating feature about their latest show in the local newspaper this weekend, including pictures of a woman I detested when I used to perform there. The local theatre company used to be a lot smaller and a lot better. Now it's gotten competitive and ponderous. I haven't been impressed by any of the shows I've seen lately, despite their "imported" talent. I guess it feels like the Emperor's New Clothes, people get all excited by pedigree and ignore the actual talent. (Like the woman who went on about being a part of the Asheland Shakespeare Festival, later it turned out she worked in the box office, which really doesn't qualify her to make unquestionable artistic decisions.)

Then I fixed the step while my brother watched and cheered me on. He's heavy on the Scottish Enlightenment lately, so he also lectured me on what he's been reading, which was interesting. We found an interesting proof that would really do a number on dad, but decided it would be cruel to use it. Weirdly, I can't remember what it was.

This reminds me of a time I was having coffee with muphf and he said, "Yeah, some families are so smart, you always wonder what they discuss amongst themselves when no one else is around."

"They probably make fart jokes," I said. I don't know about everyone else's families, but in my family it's true unless my dad is around.

So, I slept a lot, wandered a lot, cleaned a little (uncovered some things left behind by my visitor Wednesday, which means I will have to see him a lot sooner than expected), read a little bit, and finished a Season 4 of Upstairs, Downstairs.

Now I have two questions for you:

Catherine Asaro - should I bother?

Does anyone know of Quantum Physics for Babies or some other basic layperson's primer on theoretical physics?

On the whole, I'm feeling a little better all around, less floaty, and more like I can hope for a future again. I can't SEE a future, but I can sense one out there, and that's a good feeling to have after being focused so long on the immediate tasks at hand at exclusion of all other pleasures.