The birds of Seattle.

We are having a wonderful time in Seattle, to wit:

• we've spent some time at a park down by Pike Place Market where we had a fine time watching birds and the water and people.

"You know what I find kind of touching? young love," said the historian, pointing out a young, obviously in-love couple.

"You're a better person than I am," said I. "I just feel kind of bitter I'm not still young myself."

Later on, though, the historian's daughter told us that all manner of drug deals go on down there.

"Really?" I said, turning to the historian--"so, that young couple you thought was so charming?"

"Probably doing a drug deal," said the historian's daughter, and she ought to know.

• eating good food and seeing a movie and going to the museum and shopping (fruitlessly) and etcetera.

However, the birds of Seattle are not interested in giving me the time of day. You can see what I mean:

Short lists: a short list.

Slightly alarming things that have happened more than once and I am hoping will not become a trend:

1. Missing my stop on the train because I am reading.

Thing I do that might be a little weird, but I'm probably going to keep doing it anyway:

1. Skulk around my own house, faking like I'm not at home, when someone's at the door and I don't feel like answering it.

Possibly not the best right-before-bedtime reading material:

1. Dark brooding crime fiction set in European countries near the Arctic circle. (But I'm probably going to keep reading it anyway.)

Things which, under some circumstances, might be delightful, but which, under these particular circumstances, in fact make me a little bitter:

1. Receiving my complimentary copy of a book of poems--the one that won the contest that I also entered but did not win.