The KoH went to Chicago a couple of weeks ago and brought back presents for the family. The Dormouse got one of those laser etchings inside an acrylic block. The Caterpillar got one of the cutest onesies ever from the House of Blues. And me? He tried very hard to find a good gift for me - a kind of rosin I like with gold flex in it. The cake that I have now has lasted since high school and desperately needs to be replaced and a few months ago I went looking for some but couldn't find any. (Now, however, it's all over the net. Go figure.) It was a great idea for a gift for me - he's always saying he never knows what to get me but he always picks great stuff - but the guy who told him he had some and to come back tomorrow and when he did he was all, "Ummm gee, I didn't really think you'd come back. I don't have any." So instead, he brought me back a harmonica. Small compensation for getting to go to my favorite city without me, but nice nonetheless.

I've always had a special weekness for guys who play really good blues harmonica and have spent many a night in blues bars, digging that sound and wondering how I could kidnap the lead singer in one of those bands and take her place. I've never had the kind of voice that would allow me to pull it off though so it's all a pipe dream. Once they heard my inability to get even the tinyest bit of gravel into my tone they'd kick me off the stage and take away my Leon Redbone CDs.

Perhaps one day, I can live vicariously through my children, though.