arming the rebels

Jack stared at the butter. I prefer a cold butter, he thought. Warm butter makes for easy spreading, but it glistens at you. The grease sweats out to the surface. Sweltering butter makes for smaller appetites, thought Jack. The knife traced its course and swiped the butter across the bread. Jack lived on.

Maybe we could start a little independent repretory movie house or somethin

The weather is getting good. More than anything else, that really changes my mood. Everything about life is much easier when it's not freezing cold outside and when you don't have to worry about your car spinning out in a snowstorm. I for one think that New England is much prettier in the spring than in the fall, when people take "foliage tours". Isn't bright green better to look at than brown and yellow?