We hadn't

meant to be nomads. It had looked like life was gearing towards settling down. A new move, a baby on the way, and so on. When the baby was born, we expected the usual late nights for a few months, with a routine to follow. We got the late nights at first, but the routine we settled into could never have been predicted.

We noticed that though she cried at home, she never did so when we were away from the house, no matter how noisy or strange the environment. As soon as we were somewhere new, she always calmed down, ready to fall asleep. We thought this was just a fluke, it would change with time. But it didn't. Instead, it became worse. She couldn't stand to be in the same place twice, and especially not the house. On weekends we spent time trying to find new places to visit, new places that were affordable, just so that she would be satisfied. Eventually we were spending more time in strange hotel rooms then at home, so we got rid of the apartment, and hit the road. I couldn't maintain my job with the hectic schedule, but the baby comes first, and so we were no longer tied to the area. And the further afield we went, the happier the baby became. We had arrived at the new routine, the routine of no routine.

Two merchants

travelled together in foreign lands, both engaging in trade. Both kept journals of their travels, and wrote down what they found most noteworthy. One merchant, a fishtrader wrote of the differences between the lands -- differences in the people, their customs, foods, clothes, their homes, and differences in the landscapes, plants, animals, weather patterns, and so on. The other merchant noted how similar all the lands were to one another -- each had its people, with their customs, foods, clothes, homes, and each region had plants, animals, and changes in weather.

Which merchant made the deeper observations?

The unhaunted mind

would make a good title of a book I think. But we could choose what it's about.

The book I've been reading "Riddley Walker" has been a letdown, despite a cult following, despite what I thought was a promising start. That doesn't mean that "The Unhaunted Mind" would be any better.

Oh, and while I'm writing: SCOPE ROMBARD.

Where is your harbor.

Now how old are you?

Quick

wit is not the truth. Nor is charm.

Achbar Echad

The mice worship Achbar Echad, the #1 mouse. Achbar Echad lives in the #1 mousehole, eats #1 cheese, and so on. He is alone among mice and has no equal, because he is the #1 mouse. You and I, we don't know our #s, but we might be the #434,612,938 and #243,942,695 mice.

Achbar Echad is the #1 mouse, but is he the first mouse? Or is there a #0 mouse -- a mouse before mice? Does mousehood precede mice?

What

could compel one to not go anywhere, just stay in the same place? There are things.

Thoughts today have shot past and through Boston a couple of times. That was a nice place. If anyone happens to read this, and also happens to be in Boston, say hi to the Charles river for me, and so on.