I got some at the farmers’ market bakery, and they were attractive and, uh, delicious. We wound up eating several, and by photo time, only three were left. They were bendy in the middle, and didn’t have quite the look I wanted, being made of puff pastry.

Friends had told me some time ago about a local restaurant famous for its breadsticks. I stopped by tonight, waiting patiently while the man behind the counter took an order by phone. When he finally looked up, I asked how many breadsticks came with an order to go.

Man (very Italian): You want side order or whole?
Me: Not whole, I want just the breadsticks to go. How many per order?
Man: Three. But that not what you want.
Me: (Raise eyebrows)
He staples the phone takeout order to another piece of paper, and turns to the cook in back. They confer. For a long time. The place was deserted, but I think it was closing time, or very near. Finally, he turned back.
Man: Now, what you want again. Breadsticks.
Me: How many in a side order?
Man: That not what you want. No. I tell you why. You order side of bread, you get three piece. Cost $8.00. You want big whole order.
Me: No I don’t. I want the small order.
Man: No no. Come, I show you. (He goes over to a refrigerated case full of small tubs of a yellow substance.) You see that.
Me: Yeah.
Man: You order side of bread, you get three small piece and the little bitty tub of cheese spread.
Me: I just want to take photos of bread sticks.
Man: (long-suffering look)
Me: So I only need a few.
Man: Come with me. (He goes to another refrigerated case, and takes out a round of dough cut into wedges.) You see. You buy for a dollar more, you get all this, and the really big tub of cheese spread.
Me: (tempted) I’m sorry, I really thought you had the bread in sticks.

All the way to the car, I kept thinking I should go back and buy the whole thing and the big tub, and just plan a meal around it. Maybe Sunday.

Family members have insisted over the years that I must see this or that on the big screen. I much prefer the comforts of home, but for this movie, I’ll be at the theater, squirming with excitement. I may have to go two or three times. Perhaps I’ll read the book again for the third time.

One of the libraries I frequent had The Golden Compass in the children’s section, and The Subtle Knife and The Amber Spyglass in the young adults. After reading the trilogy, I went back to the children’s section, and looked for the Sally Lockhart series. Alas, the library only had The Ruby in the Smoke, The Shadow in the North, and The Tiger in the Well. But I found Count Karlstein. Loved them all.

I spent a lot of time in the kids’ library, what with Harry Potter and all. It was there that I found the film Spirited Away. And of course, the secret of that room was very simple: hardly anyone was at the computers in the evening, as opposed to the packs in the main rooms.

Looking to cross a few items off your list re headsets? Here’s a review of some of the top choices, courtesy of Slate.

Billed as the French ‘Top Gun’, we had high expectations. While the jet sequences were wondrous, I would rather have sat through 90 minutes of the titles alone. Now those were exceedingly well done.

A very simple meal of shrimp sauteed in their shells, greens and rice. But coconut cream pie for dessert.

The Naz is up over 80 points. I must be having another stock dream, although this one is a bit more positive.

So you think your workspace is cramped and airless. (Mine has termites chewing through the ceiling above my head.) Check out the 12 winners in the Wired News Saddest Cubicle Contest.

No way, says you? I beg to differ.

Here is an example of clothing to accommodate the truly nurturing man. No comment on the facial expression of the child.

Give them a pile of construction paper, a pencil, and wow. I love my Mac, but it has neither a ‘Food’ nor an ‘imediet Buy’ button.

At over eight feet in length, this formidable creature could make quick work of its prey with its 18-inch claws and saw blades on its legs. Nothing about the tail, though.

Two large bags of yams. Two large loaves of white bread for making stuffing. Cream cheese for pies. Two cans of pumpkin filling. Spinach and lettuce for salads.

Clerk: So. You going to make yam sandwiches?
Me: (long-suffering look)
Clerk: I had to stay with relatives once, and they were poor. They mashed up some vegetables so they looked like meat, and put that between bread slices. Tasted like sawdust.
Me (to myself): What am I forgetting. There’s other stuff I need.

Home at last, I remembered. Pie crusts. Egg nog. More on special sandwich fillings in a bit.

Wonderful film, a bit of the gore at the end that went on forever, but tremendous chemistry between Costner and Hurt.

Dinner was a little of this and that, dim sum, fried chicken legs, leftover spaghetti, BLTs. Don’t ask, it just worked out that way.

As I was debating which mini dessert to get, the older fellow in front of us turned around abruptly.

Fellow: Cannoli? It’s sooo good.
Me: Uh. . .
Fellow: I mean, look at all this stuff. It’s all great.
Me: Yeah, I . . .
Fellow: But me, I can’t eat it. (Pats stomach) Man, I’m just getting this for my mom.
Me: Heh, that’s . . .
Fellow: But, gee, the cannoli!

I got the carrot cake muffins, which turned out to be vegan.

Because there are no clean spoons, and due to dental work on both sides, even scrambled eggs are hard to eat. However, I did manage to try the block of Callebaut white chocolate, which is very excellent. I’m so glad my dentist couldn’t follow me home to see my afternoon’s food.

Knowing my fear levels, the dentist put me under while she filled a couple of teeth and cemented the crown. My legs felt like they were out on the balcony dancing while the rest of me stared at the ceiling and wondered if that flying stuff was getting on my contacts.

I’m done for the year. Just in time for turkey, stuffing, pies and all those other wondrous holiday edibles.

Droppings have been steadily falling directly over the table where I work. I had visions of insect masses in the infrastructure slowly and methodically eating the house.

He was due between 11 and noon, and being a veteran of such promises, I was stepping into the shower at 10-ish, allowing plenty of time before his arrival. There was a knock on the door.

This is the first time a service person has been early. His highly scented deodorant followed his every move, and when he ventured outside to check the eaves, he was very easy to find.

A friend had reported the results of her termite work not too long ago, so I was expecting the estimate to be in the four-figure range, and the dreaded tenting. Surprise! The infestation is not severe, limited to a few areas, and subterranean evidence is minimal.

Now if I can just get through the dental work at 8 a.m. tomorrow.

Still by the front door looking a little forlorn. A few Nestle’s crunch bars with caramel. Three or four See’s peppermint sticks. Assorted Tootsie Rolls. The Milky Ways have been delegated to a family member’s bedroom way in the back to keep them out of my sight.

I still have the temporary crown and instructions by the dentist to stay away from sticky food. But I can have things like Cherry Garcia ice cream. Plus I got a pint of Ciao Bella chocolate gelato in case there was a need for a little something else.

I can’t eat dairy without consequences. Earlier, I made sausage gravy for a photo. Then, as I was scrambling my breakfast eggs, I added some gravy. Just a little.

Wow. It took the eggs to a level of fatty, decadent wonder they never imagined. About 20 minutes from now, I’ll see if my digestive system can cope.

Quite active this afternoon. Perhaps there is earth movement nearby.

The other night we had lamb shanks cooked in Guinness, quite tasty. That has been my only experience with dark stout, at least till now.

Awe-inspiring, truly. From the Telegraph, after the commercial.

A friend took me to a celebratory dinner tonight, and because the restaurant offered no desserts, we wound up at Whole Foods gazing at the myriad choices in the bakery department. After trying the patience of the clerk, we settled on a chocolate eclair and the key lime tart, both mini-sized, therefore somewhat guilt-free. We laughed so hard when I told her about the oxtail incident that I’m sure some calories were lost while eating.

While I was in the restroom, someone entered the next stall. There was a loud exclamation of the sort I’m too polite to utter in public places when I am a victim of hovering.

In the Arctic, three British explorers were surrounded by 17 wolves with blood-stained fur.

This is not the time to think of that Grandpa Simpson quote.

Also known as the sequel to Super Mario Bros. that was not released in the U.S. Now you can play it on the Wii.

I had a cracked tooth that needed rebuilding.

At this office, one is not allowed to sit and calm down by reading about starlets and other Beautiful People in rehab. The dentist came right out, rubbing her hands in glee. (I really was supposed to get this done three years ago.) They got the nitrous mask on right away. Two of the ceiling panels have been replaced with photos of billowy clouds and blue sky. I spent much of the time watching my floaters (an unusually large number) drift by these clouds. Whenever I felt something sharp, I took a deep breath, and thought, ‘That might be hurting, but I sure don’t care.’ There was a whole cabinet of dental tools in my mouth. About halfway through, the dentist got my attention:

Dentist: Why are you watching me?
Me: Awaaa?
Dentist: Your eyes are following me around the room. You’re not supposed to be able to do that.
Me: Ohaaaaa.
(She and the hygienist confer, and make adjustments to the tanks behind me.)
Dentist: There, that should be better. You were out of nitrous.
Me: Ohiiiiaaaa.

Today around lunchtime, I’ll be sedated. My very excellent dentist, Dr. Amy, will be working on teeth she has worried about for a long time.

The bright side is that this will be the last lengthy appointment (no more root canals). But I’m having a lot of difficulty focusing on work this morning. I ate pancakes laden with El Rey chocolate. Should have gotten a shot of the oozing, molten chocolate, the light this morning is lovely and diffused by fog.

The hawk up in the redwood was annoyed by the crow. It took off, making wide sweeps as the crow kept up its harassment.

It reminded me a bit of the Blue Angels but much grander and silent.

A family member has dined at some of the fanciest SF restaurants, and still keeps a Totino’s or two in his freezer. For you, Chris - be sure and read all the comments.

The Andy Rubin phone perhaps.

An NYT look at the career moves of the man at the helm of the Google phone development .

The birds are slamming into the windows with alarming frequency this afternoon after partaking of the berries. I went out with my camera and tripod, trying to blend in with the shadows. All of them - the cedar waxwings, the robins, the finches, the occasional bluejay - took off to the top of the oaks. They chattered in tones I’d never heard before, exuberant, a little frantic, definitely stoned.

Perhaps next year, I will have the right lens for this kind of shooting.

Last year I got some pictures, but this year there are fewer berries, and I’m having trouble with the invisible part.

Either they’re very, very late, or really, really early. Or else they’re just as confused as we are, what with daylight saving time ending, fermenting pyracantha berries, vague but disturbing earth movements and springtime temps.

In the previous post, I mentioned tirefly lights, which I learned about from the evilmadscientist site via a tip from son Chris.

Like the author, I found the lights at Target. ( Amazon is out of stock at the moment.) Aside from their Halloween uses, they seem to be handy aftershock detectors. Once in a while, one will start flashing, and I’ll assume it is telling me we are experiencing one of the numerous - 40 at last count - aftershocks of that quake we had.