I'm a little more than a third of the way through my house arrest:  that is, through the enforced period of using crutches.  I have to confess, I'm getting a little sick of it. 

   I sit here in my office on the second floor on a perfectly good Sunday morning.  Perfectly good except my coffee cup is empty.  Before she went to bed last night, Satoko kindly made a thermos-full of java for me and set it out on my desk.  But it's empty now.  There's more coffee to be had downstairs, but I can't carry it upstairs while on crutches, and I don't feel like sitting in the kitchen just now.  Damn.  Three and a half more weeks.

  And don't get me started about physical therapy....

   I've updated the music page here with some new CD acquisitions and updated ratings of a few others.   

    There's a nice review here of the memorial reading for Bill Holm held at the Fitzgerald Theater in St. Paul a couple of weeks ago.   

   There's an intriguing new piece of baseball fiction here:  Michael Martone's "The Death of Derek Jeter." 

   Finally, apropos of nothing, here is video of Ben Folds Five performing a nicely reworked cover of The Flaming Lips' "She Don't Use Jelly."  Nothing rhymes with "oranges," but there are a surprising number of words that rhyme with "tangerines." 

   Okay, that's it.  I'm hopping downstairs to the kitchen for more coffee.  You're on your own, you healthy two-legged bodies.