May 22nd, a Tuesday, all day...whoever invented Tuesdays. They're kind of a nothing day. It's not the weekend. It's not the first day of the week (back to school or back to work) that everyone can gripe about. It's not the middle of the week when all of us starting counting down to the weekend. It's not the fourth day that is the slider into the final day of the week and Tuesday certainly isn't Friday--the day that everyone loves and uses exclamation points after and looks forward to from Monday morning on. Nope. Tuesday is just a kind of in-between day--kind of like being the middle child of three or the second child of five. Sad Tuesday. But now it's almost over and that means it will be the middle of the week in just a few hours! Woohoo!

I just returned from seeing Shrek. They say (whoever "they" are) that three times is the charm. Well, "they" weren't right, not at least about this sequel. It's cute, but not as clever as the first two. It has its moments, but then so does a mosquito while it's biting you and giving you a one in 10 chance of developing West Nile Virus. I don't know if the writers were the same. If they were different. If they just ran out of gas--and at over $3/gallon, that's easy to do. I was fortunate enough to be in a theater with parents who felt a 2 or 3 year-old should be staying up past bedtime to watch a movie that won't capture his or her imagination and will make no sense whatsoever, and whose child entertained all of us with delightful shrieks and constant talking in between the high-C notes. Yep. That's why I paid $7 to enter the theater. Although, when the action and comedy lagged on the screen, I had the pipsqueak to entertain me. I arrived too late to buy popcorn, so the sideband entertainment was helpful.

Today the Northern California valley had a second day of block-buster winds. Like to wear all your hair slicked back--face the wind. Like to wear the Beatles mop top, turn the back of your hair to the wind. Confused about what look will be most flattering, let the wind decide. I only have about 3 hairs, so my options were limited. The North wind makes people cranky--besides messing with their hair or in my case hairs. Those who suffer allergies find that their nose feels like the schnoz of one of the presidents on Mt. Rushmore and those who don't have allergies just use the wind as an excuse for being peevish (and if you don't know what this word means, it will give you a chance to use the dictionary to learn a new word). The weather forecasters promised us just one day of wind, but the wind moved in and decided to stay a while. I want to know how the weather forecasters keep their jobs since it appears that more often than not they have the weather forecast wrong. Who gets paid to make mistakes day after day without any consequences? I want that job, although I'm not sure I want to point at a map that isn't really there and talk about depressions and barometer readings and partial cloudiness. My weather forecaster is my hand. I stick it out the window in the morning. If it feels sweaty, it will be a hot day. If it gets wet, it will be a rainy day. If it turns blue, it will be a cold day. If it collects small, white, cold bits in it, it will be a snowy day. Pretty simple and always correct.

That's about it here in the sunny, WINDY climes of Northern California where the peaches are ripening on the trees as I type. Yum. Almost makes up for the tofu, bean sprouts and perky people who live here.