Carpet patterns, I like them. They are warm, they are classy, they offer this very fresh and young place of mine a sense of a past. They offer history on which to erect the new, upstart IKEA design of cheep furniture. Meanwhile Momus keeps pipping out of the speakers. He is a good discovery. How does one miss a good musician? How does pleasant, apealing music totally fall through the cracks? No more writing for tonight. I have overindulged. Time of some cheese to temper the taste of beer and then some reading. Part of an effort to educate myself on local affairs. The author is called Brian Fawcett, the book: "the way things are in my hometown."

A domani