For supper on Sunday night, I ate a short stack of freshly baked cookies the size of silver dollars, with mini-chocolate chips inside them and a mug of cold milk besides.  I don’t question, I don’t nag, I simply eat what is put before me.  It’s only polite.  They were delicious, and worked nicely to counteract the little hike we took up the hillside to watch the sunset.  The digital camera still works even though I dropped it on the concrete from 10 feet up yesterday.  It makes a funny noise now when it auto-focuses.  We were at Bartlett Lake with Dr. G’s sister, Marie, and I was leaning over a rail to take some pictures of shadows.  Oopsie.  Totally not worth it. Wandering around Cave Creek we saw a proud, swishy group of Red Hat ladies all decked out in red and purple, looking great.  We also saw Spider-Man 3, which was good in some ways (I love Peter Parker’s broken door) but could have used a rigorous editing.  Anytime you try to destabilize a relationship with a convenient bout of amnesia, you are treading in daytime soaps territory.   And if the only way you can think of to convey your message is through the speeches of an angelic old woman, you’re in Disney Princess  La La Land.  Disney + Days of Our Lives + CGI  =  Unfortunate Big Screen Mash-Up.   Ordered a few T-shirts from an online store and was wandering around Tempe.  Guy at a cash register says warmly and enthusiastically, “Hey, is that a Threadless shirt?”  and points to his own.  Apparently I have bought my way into some sort of T-shirt brotherhood.

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