Good afternoon, Tuesday--whose virtue is this: you never heard a song called "Blue TUESDAY"--Actually it's not bad here. The sun is bright, the wind is light, and a while ago the house did a little Jello shimmy that may have been a blast at the quarry across the creek or may have been a tiny earthquake--we occasionally have tiny tremors here, although we don't have a major fault line within a few hundred miles--

Anyway, a Madame update: Willard called me awhile ago. She was up early on her rounds and happened to see GOOD MORNING AMERICA was at the Golden Gate Bridge across San Francisco Bay. And--yes, you guessed it--there, back in the crowd, stood Madame and Roscoe. Madame seemed a bit tipsy; Willard said Roscoe caught her by the collar and lifted her off her feet, holding her kicking and screaming in midair until she agreed to move to a safer spot, where she was less likely to pitch headfirst into the bay.



I have a feeling they'll probably take the Alcatraz tour before they get another tank of diesel and hit the road again. I can guarantee the ghosts who inhabit the Rock--even the Birdman and Al Capone himself--will hide out till Madame's gone. Now Roscoe, he looks like he would have fit right in in the bad old days when the island was America's toughest maximum security prison, but Madame will scare them crapless with her attempts to "send them to the light"--and no Aunt Ornery there to straighten out the mess she makes--

One other note this fine PM: I have reactivated my Gimme a Book blog, so please stop by sometime!

And on that note of shameless self-promotion, fair thee well.