What I won't do to procrastinate. Even restart this blog! Well, okay. So we celebrate the rearrival of light to our darkened part of the world. (I always love the first weekend in May for that reason.) And the fact that Dad's most recent mail alluded to Erma's going to the hospital to have the heart valve she had replaced a couple of years ago replaced again. And that I feel relaxed (for no good reason) over tomorrow's Embedded Systems final--like after that, the paper and labs are all I have to worry about, and they're day-to-day enough that I won't be stressing. So, 48 hours to first taste of summer freedom.

Last week resumed the big exercise push. Walked from home to the gym through Woodland Park, a few miles, the first uphill. Met a fellow in the park who was all set to kick off his weekend: had the burgers, the charcoal, the starter, the portable TV on which the Yankees were handing the Mariners yet another humiliating thrashing. But no incindiary devices! So I loaned him my lighter, jumped a little when he left the can of starter sitting on the grill as the flames rose. (He said not to worry, he was a marine engineer and worked with flammable stuff all the time, but his intention to "get intoxicated" left me wondering.) Then he shared with me his experience of women in the Kamchatka Islands, where he was stationed. "There's two things they like," he said: "Vodka and ice cream." I told him that was a milkshake I could get behind.

Walking, walking. Flowers everywhere. Irises and hawthorn trees particularly lovely. And poppies--can't forget the poppies.

Celebrated with Tom and Joanie and Keely yesterday evening. On the way out to Monroe we ran into our street-mystic buddy Dash up at Marketime. He always launches into long, long discourses on Dzogchen (and its relationship to traditional Tibetan Bon), and we always have a hard time disengaging. But he's so sweet about it, madman or no. We gave Keely an early birthday present I've been waiting to give her ever since I learned she shared my love of Gerbera daisies: an actual Gerbera-daisy plant! (She's a Gemini, and I reminded her of how I should have recognized the signs: the mile-a-minute stories she used to tell, just barely pausing to take deep breaths between sentences.) We managed to keep resistance to the white-chocolate-chip-Macademia-nut cookies Joanie whipped up within reasonable levels, then downed some champagne and watched the remake of Willard (you remember, the other great rat movie of the '70s after Ben)starring Christian Glover in one of his fit-like-a-suit roles. He definitely reminds me of some great silent-movie star--would have been right at home in Nosferatu. Now ain't this just the best? To be 47 years old and still spending my spare time doing such silly stuff?