Sunday, December 6, 2009


I was thinking about how my fingers brushed the bowls of the plastic spoons in the bin when I was taking one for my yogurt parfait and that no one would know that I'd touched them and probably, in the back of my mind, were the images from the commercial showing all the wiggly, colorful germs developing on anything that actor-child touched.

And then, walking back through the library on the 8th floor, I looked at the bookshelves which I've never done even though I've walked through it almost countless times (I suppose I could count them...23 years x's 3, two semesters, 14 weeks, plus 5 years x's 2...mostly two semesters, 14 weeks,) and never, once, noticed the names of any books.

A friend of mine is thinking of writing a book about being eighty. (He looks like he's sixty.) I suggested a blog since they're so interesting, but they don't have the permanence of a book. That's a good thing, probably. But the guy at Panera, who I haven't seen in too long, lent me his book on WordPress for dummies because that program allows you to feed pre-written material into the blog. But then I'd think about what I'm saying. And thinking isn't necessarily good.


  1. Luckily we're immune to most of those invisible buggers. Your blog is fluid!

  2. I saw an Oprah Winfrey show once where she talked about germs. She talked about how she needs to change her sheets daily I think and pillow cases and pillows almost weekly, as I remember to protect herself against the bugs that lurk there.

    It makes for fascinating fantasies, as far as I'm concerned.

    I rarely watch TV. This is the first, last and only Oprah show I've ever watched. And this bout three or maybe four years ago. Perhaps that's why it's stuck in my brain. All those bugs.

    They offered gifts to a woman who was prepared to have her home examined for bugs. Turns out she used the same disposable razor for months on end. Shock, horror when they magnified the results.

    And her kitchen dishcloths, the ones she refused to throw out for at least another six months. More shock horror.

    It certainly makes you wonder.

    Thanks for another wonderful post.

    I love the understatement, honesty and boldness of your writing.

  3. Elizabeth, thank you so much for the funny response.
    I tried to e-mail you, to thank you for Cuban in Paris...I gather that you don't blog...anyway, thank you!
    I can imagine how many mites are dancing around in my mattress....