So, I stopped in to Staples in Harvard Square tonight to make a few copies. It turns out that their self-service machines don't take cardstock, and the lady behind the counter told me that it would be an hour's wait if I wanted her to make nine copies for me. I asked if there was anyone else nearby who might be able to do it, and she said, "Fedex, next to Verizon, I think they do copies." I thanked her and left.

Crossing Winthrop Square, I located Verizon on Mt Auburn St, but I didn't see a Fedex. I did, however, notice a sign in a basement window: Flash Print -- and the lights were still on. I discovered that the entrance to this print shop is right across the hall from Million Year Picnic, to which I've been many times.

I went in and had a pleasant conversation with the gruff fellow behind the desk. He made a test print, then did my copies on cardstock just the way I wanted them, and then refused to take my payment for them. He asked who'd sent me, and I told the story about the hour-long wait at Staples, and we both had a laugh.

Lucy found a bone.

This came in the mail the other day. There was no postmark, but I can only hope it was mailed before Friday the 13th.

The four-year-old boy next door sees me carrying a bucket of kitchen scraps to the backyard. He says, "I bet I know what you're doing! You're going to put those in the com-pile!"

Indeed: next year's garden is compiling.

Today's town announcement email begins: "The anticipated forecast for more snow will exasperate already perilous conditions around your home."

ORLY?