Reading: Alison Weir, Eleanor of Aquitaine

Moving: that walk I theorized yesterday.

Viewing: Magpies, squirlkins, and a robin who probably didn't bother to leave this winter.

Listening: "Passing on your left!

Learning: About classes at Colorado Free University.

27 February 2000: Later

When we figured it was warmer outside than in (and I'd been shivering in my bathrobe), we finally did go for a walk. I brought my camera, but I didn't take any pictures. The prairie dogs' scrap of land hasn't a lick of green on it yet, so they're hard to see, and the squirlkins just swore at me, and the magpies didn't get close enough for me and my "that's not a wildlife camera, that's a snapshot camera" camera.

I have decided "squirrel" isn't a fun enough spelling for such an animal. Gail Carson Levine writes in Ella Enchanted that the one fairy's "gift" of making people obedient (Ella) or turning them into squirrels really isn't as beneficial for the giftees as the fairy has always assumed; nonetheless squirrels look like they have a great time. So.

The suffix -kin is an archaic means of forming the diminutive of a word, like -ling that gives us "liebling" and "earthling" and "freshling": Snufkin (a Moomintroll), puppykins (was I the only only person to call her dog puppykins throughout her old age?), bumpkin. The etymology of the nickname Jack:

Some people believe Jack should properly be the diminutive of the name James, since it's a homophone of the French version of James, Jacques. But actually Jack evolved as a diminutive of the French version of John, Jean. "Jeankin" got slurred into Jack, and I don't remember where I read that.

So anyway, squirlkin.

We saw Bailey and Casey, and Casey is about three times as big as the last time we saw him. Also we met another black dog named Jake.

I think it is very curious that the most popular dogs' and children's names overlap so much between species and genders. I haven't seen "Jake" for females of either species yet though. And it doesn't bother me when dogs are named Jake but it does bother me when parents name children Jake instead of Jacob or Jack instead of John. Or Bobby instead of Robert. Declassé. Or Lisa instead of Elisabeth. It makes it impossible for me to be Elspeth or Liesl. Perhaps I should be grateful it also makes it impossible for me to be Betsy or Lizzie.

What else. Lots of bicyclists. The last one was an old man on a shiny three-speed. At least it looked like a three-speed, and he pedaled so slowly that we had lots of time to look as we neared each other. Not just shiny but spandy-new, and there was even a big red bow in the center of the curved handlebar.

"Did you see that? His first time on his own bike. See the grin?"
"How do you know it's his first time?"
"Because he just got the bike for his birthday--did you see the big red bow? He was grinning the grin of a man who's just got a bike for his birthday."
"How d'you know it wasn't the grin of a man who's just stolen some kid's birthday bike?"

Any questions who said what there?

Laundry. Sunday night television. Tonight's a crossover between "Party of Five" and "X-Files." The parents really haven't been dead all this time but were abducted.

I don't watch "Party of Five," so that joke was a wash. I couldn't think of another Fox program. Except "Simpsons." That might be good. No, that's already happened.

Monday: oho, it was X-Files à la "Matrix," not "Party of Five." Scully as Laura Croft must have fulfilled someone's fantasy. William Gibson's two teleplays for "X-Files" are my favorites epidodes.

Oh, and I should explain for the legions who think I'm an abused spouse that one of RDC's ideas was for him to take the G3 and for me to get a grape iMac. The appeal of having a purple computer did not overcome the fact that the screen is smaller, especially since the screen, not the Skittle-colored back and sides, is what I spend my time staring at. The monitor he bought is flatter than mine and its tube not so long from front to back, but he also bought a color printer because I'd like it.