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Justine Larbelestrer uses spreadsheets to coordinate her stories. Not index cards. And used Project to plot out her timelines. Boy, is my face all WELL DUH.

We awoke, swam, breakfasted (sort of), packed, argued…and shook the dust of the Best Western off our feet. From thence to the Santa Fe Children’s Museum. Not open yet. We drove around until we reached St. John’s College, which sported a trailhead in one of their parking lots. I forget what the name of the

Ray and I stopped downtown for lunch before braving the doc’s for her last chicken-pox shot yesterday and discovered a place called “The Original Soup Man“* was there…when it hadn’t been there before. Now, I like soup. I mean, a few days ago, I had to crow over the fact that I had completely surpassed

Orangs at the zoo in Atlanta, Georgia, get to play video games.

Via BD. Warning: The one Phillip Pullman book I read (not one of this series) left me feeling cheated. So far: Fox, Gibbon, Chimpanzee, and Ladybug.

(By the way, it’s not that going to New Mexico is all that remarkable, like going to Scotland or Japan or something…it’s just that I don’t get out of town much.) I had to stop three different places in the Springs in order to get gas…everyone was out! The third place only had 85 left,

Here’s something I learned in New Mexico: the Spanish word for “tax” is “imposition.” That’s right. Like death, no one can escape the Spanish imposition.

Or, Yes and No. One of the YA authors I follow, Maureen Johnson, has had a book, Bermudez Triangle, banned from school library in Bartlesville, Oklahoma. One parent filled out a sheet asking the book to be pulled…even though there were two other options available, one to prevent the child from checking out the book,

False alarm: the car’s okay, except for a bad O2 something-or-other sensor. I’ll be out of town from noonish today to afternoon May 1. I may or may not have access until I get back.

Okay, fate. Last week, you jammed the clip that holds the door to the gas cap. I gave in and took the car to the shop, so I wouldn’t be on the road to Santa Fe and unable to pry it open. Today, the day before I want to leave…you turn the engine light on.