Last week my van visited the hoist at the service station to investigate the vibrating that goes on at a certain temperate speed. There is a gentleman who is always at the garage, and here he is, having been asked to observe the movement of the right front tire.

We still don't have a diagnosis.

***

"It struck you, or it struck me, that Ronda was a place that had yet to experience dental selfconsciousness. Many a perfectly moulded visage would unreservedly open out to you — revealing a bag of mixed nuts or, more typically in Andalucia, a bag of mixed nuts and raisins."

-Martin Amis in his memoir, Experience, regarding the common dental condition in Spain when he was a lad

Ah, what a real writer can do with so few words! I bow to this man's talent.

***

NP: Alison Krauss, Now That I've Found You

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There are two or three dozen deer herded up in a field every afternoon, and this one by itself I've seen twice now. Assuming it's the same one. It wouldn't let me get close, but turned and bounded up the road away from me with its white tail upright and swinging from side to side like an upside-down pendulum.

***

"One picture Vincent particularly singled out—The Bathers [by Courbet]—was certainly fleshy. The massive buttocks of the nude seen from behind obviously appealed to Vincent. When, at art school, his copy of the Venus de Milo was criticized for having the wide hips of a Flemish matron, Vincent flew into a rage and shouted at the horrified professor: 'You clearly don't know what a young woman is like, God damn it! A woman must have hips, buttocks, a pelvis in which she can carry a baby!"

-from The Yellow House: Van Gogh, Gaugin, and Nine Turbulent Weeks in Arles, by Martin Gayford

NP: The Grinch Who Stole Christmas soundtrack, courtesy of Everett

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