Here and Back Again

Well, I'm going back to work, albeit not (unless I'm feeling particularly antic in the morning) in my Maidenform; the Powers That Be tell us they've somehow, miraculously, found some money to pay us, albeit for a single pay period, and in the form of a paycheck that we will, all things willing and the creek don't rise, receive sometime next month. Yee-haw.

The Snow is Snowing...

...And The Mister, the dog, and I are weathering the storm rather nicely. For once the Experts Meteorological if anything underestimated the extent of colorful weather in store for us, so our decision to treat this Sunday as a sort of belated holiday turns out to have been an extremely sensible one. Yay, us.

Involuntary Vacation

So one thing I've been thinking about as I come back to this curious form of public writing is the question of truthtelling. With retirement approaching, I've realized that the need to be quite so enigmatic as to the details of life is less; current events have provided a perfect opportunity to start that process.

Muddling Through

Well, to steal a phrase from Miss Deven Green, hello there.

Au Reservoir

Carissimi, the Café is going on a little break.

Tell Mary to Call Diane!

The fabulous Miss Dina Martina gives us her... unique... perspective on this most invented of all long weekends..

Complaints Department (With Bonus New Drag Name)

So, O Best Beloveds, I won't lie to you: la vie is rather bleak chez nous at the moment. I'm in a slough.

Of Flaring Pains and Old Flames...

So 2018 has gotten off to rather a pesky start, chez nous...

Fast Away...

Another one, already. Where, as the song says, has the time all gone to?

Cloud and Majesty and Awe

Perhaps, just a little, I'm getting a sense of the season. As is so often the case, art helps; in this case, the ineffable and magisterial art of Miss Leontyne Price.

Seen in the Souq

A pile of ottomans in Ottoman old Cairo...

Cities of the Living and the Dead

At some point it stops being travel and starts being just living...

Notes from the Road

We're here. Well, not there, actually, in the sense of this snap - our own cosy flat is distinctly more modest - but in dear old Cairo.

Rendez-vous sur le Nil

The weather's gotten cold and dank; the general scene is equally dismal. Mr. Muscato and I are escaping.

Life in a Northern Town

Amid all the political brouhaha (which, I have a sinking feeling, will only continue if not expand and worsen), the Mister and I took a rare road trip this past weekend...

Une Feuille Morte

Behold: the exception that proves the rule...

Christopher...

...Columbus! I hope you've had a very pleasant weekend; it's the holiday I generally think of as "Oh, that's right - we have a day off on Monday" 'round about 3:00 p.m. on Friday.

Saturday Gallimaufry

I'm retreating ever further from what passes for the real world - with very good reason, given its state, if you ask me - and finding ever more consolation in taking pictures that keep my mind off the headlines. Herewith, a late-summer iris from August, recalled today, which has seemed like our first real day of Autumn.

Who Could Ask For Anything More?

As our national discourse continues to descend (with the man who in other circumstances would be Leader of the Free World now basically spending his time sticking out his tongue on social media), a little escapism seems in order...

A Mimic Life

I think we could all use a break, don't you?