We had to remove a baby raccoon from under my nephews room this week. We released it down by the creek at the bottom of the hill. Hopefully it will be too scared to come back.
The Book of the Damned by Charles Fort came in. I dipped into the first chapter and found the prose style very tortuous. Its hard sometimes to see what he's getting at, but he builds up to his point with a sort of slap-dash intensity, till you get an impressionistic idea of what he means. This might have something to do with the fact that he was largely self-educated and a journalist. Still, he has a kind of crackpot charm that comes through, and he makes you think about what he's saying while you try to crack what exactly that is. Charles Fort: The Grampa of the Paranormal.
Saw an article about a study someone did on intelligence using the members of Mensa as a study group, and they found out that among the male members the smartest had this thing in common: they all had very hairy backs. By this criteria I must be freakin' Einstein.
My fortune cookie this Sunday: "The weather is wonderful." I think this is an opinion, not a fortune. Unless it's meant like, you know, metaphorically. I almost felt like asking for my future back.