While I was away, my family put induction cooktops on our (free from family) new stove. I guess if the oven's free, you can afford to get a little wild and crazy with the attachments. Right now, I've got a paper towel sitting under the pot as it cooks; also, I have this bizarre anxiety that the cook top is magnetizing my bloodstream and will either pull all my hemoglobin to one side of my body or someday give me cancer. I can be a hypochondric sometimes.

There are leaves on all the trees here - it's spring in that it's still somewhat cool, and there's rain, but all the intervening stages of green I missed in the move downmountain. My siblings are both loud, tall, thin, living mostly on foil-wrapped powerbars and sleep deprivation. My father is loud, tall, overweight, and shows his affection by asking me to watch soap operas with him. They are good people, if wierd, in a good house in a good town in the summertime. It's strange, but I think it will be okay.

love,
alex