You know you live in the city when...

all of your dryer lint is black.

My mother-in-law, having bought me $200 in scrapbooking supplies for "Solstice," (worthy of another blog altogether; and no, I don't scrapbook) signed the two of us up for a paper-making class.

Yes, the woman has actually met me. There's no explanation.

I was instructed to save my dryer lint, as it evidently is ideal for pressing into paper and can be easily dyed into pastel hues fit for Easter/Eastre, to celebrate the festival of the fertility goddess.

Unless all your dryer lint is black.

Screech-halt!

So, I started a blog this year as a sort of New Year's resolution-qua-therapy assignment. Actually, the therapy assignment required a "journal," but having failed at dozens of other journal projects I decided to try a variation. It took a mere five weeks to stall. My excuses: an inspiration-stifling to visit the folks, a cross-town move, Michael's expanded schedule surrounding the Rayko opening, and a few new exhausting but redeemingly cathartic social obligations.

Not only did I give up blogging for six weeks, but I also neglected the few blogs I do read regularly. Meanwhile, two of my primary inspirations for taking up the clavier laid their blogs to rest; may I offer a melancholy farewell to Ayelet Waldman, Bad-Mother and fellow Tulsanne Sarah Brown of Que Sera Sera. (postscript: False alarm! QSS is alive and well!)