It seems I start every other entry with “sorry” these days, but it’s called for again. The cold Kate had found me yesterday, and ran me down like a speeding freight. I think it’s a sinus infection, actually — all the signs are there. I had a doctor’s appointment on another matter today, so we killed two birds with one stone. Thank God for general practice, is what I always say.
And thank God that once in a while we get sick, so we have an excuse to lie on the couch on a beautiful summer afternoon and watch “Charlie’s Angels: Full Throttle.” It was, as reviewed, pretty much an incoherent mess, but an entertaining incoherent mess. If I were Demi Moore’s best friend, though, I’d tell her to spend one-tenth of the time she spends on her workout routine watching the occasional Marx Brothers movie. No one ever seems to let her know when she’s in a comedy, and it just embarrasses me. Great abs, though.
OK, so it’s off to bed to let the medicine work. Until we meet again: R.W. Apple on Julia Child.