Yesterday's chronicles:
1. Tried to find some yard sales, which I had seen signs for the previous day, but couldn't locate them (it's a little early in the year here for that - more will crop up next month).

2. Went into Malvern instead and shopped in a bunch of small stores I'm always intending to find the time to browse through.

3. Bought a beaded cord for the reading glasses I carry in my pocketbook. I'm tired of the functional black cord I have them on but the cheap metal necklace-like ones irritate my skin. This one is made of beads in ambers and browns and worked well all day until I went to put it away. Then I leanred that it won't fold up neatly into the case for my glasses the way the old cord did.

4. Bought a few brass switchplates for in the breakfast area. I don't know how I missed these last year when I was buying them for the kitchen.

5. Picked up a large yellow and blue flowered oilcloth tote bag. Nice braided leather handles, very functional and I like the colors. I'm always caryying around stuff from one place to another and am sick of using ratty old canvas bags with the logo of some defunct company on them.

6. Ordered furniture for the sitting room and a chair for my bedroom. I always experience post-purchase dissonance after making major decisions like this (a term I remember from a college marketing class), wondering if I chose the right pieces, the right fabrics, etc.

7. Rebecca went to a birthday party for a couple friends in Everhart Park in West Chester. She and her multiple times ex-boyfriend went together, but he left before she did. I've stopped trying to figure out what holds their relationship together, or not.

Dreams: Night before last I dreamt I was doing a presentation or holding a class with people from work. They were talking and laughing and wouldn't pay attention to me. I had to shout to be heard above the din and even then it wasn't effective. Certainly a commentary on current conditions at work - lots of people talking, no one listening, very little in the way of effective communications.

Last night my dreams involved being on a boat or plane with someone I knew who was going to be married. He had decided to get an anchor tattooed onto his arm or ankle, I'm not sure which, in honor of the event. The guy who was going to do the tattoo recommended against it, and the groom eventually decided to have some other image inscribed. So, I equate marriage with an anchor, hmmm?

Books: Stone Cold, by Robert Parker, the master of economy of language. He can set a scene, evoke a mood, establish characters, and move the plot along with a minimum of fuss. It does, however, seem that this series, with its small town, alocoholic chief of police tries to distance itself as much as possible from the Spenser books, sometimes in very self-conscious ways. At its heart (or in his heart), Jesse Stone is much like Spenser - strong ideas of right and wrong, immutable love for one woman, physical strength. A quick read, as are all his books, and a good addition to the pantheon of characters he's built over the years.