*shoos yet another plotbunny away from the dining room table*

Dear Far Too Easily Diverted Brain,

I do not have time to explain how Kitty Climpson and Minerva McGonagall were twins separated at birth.

No love,
m.

"Et je cours / Je me raccroche a la vie..."

Too much writing and rehearsing to whale through tonight, so I'm at home instead of out. Hydras, hydras everywhere. On the plus side, I can now see my ironing board again, and I brewed a pitcher of tea using some of the mint I'd harvested and frozen last fall. Also:

The New York Times reports on how the palms for Palm Sunday are being harvested more responsibly. Which I found interesting (one of my chores when I worked at Christ Church was making sure they were stored properly), but I confess I was also amused by the final paragraphs of the article:

....exactly what they are used for up north [of Mexico] is not always clear.

"I know it’s used for decoration," said Moses Macal Maroukin, 69, a veteran palm chopper, who seemed somewhat mystified. He said he had no palm fronds in his home.

But then he revealed what the people here had long believed to be the real use of the exported palms. The juices in the stems and leaves are extracted, he explained in a conspiratorial whisper, and then turned into a special mixture that is used to stain greenbacks green.

"This is how you color your dollars," he said, waving a palm.

Via qassandra: A Little Birdy Told Me. Hee!

Also by Tatsuya Ishida: I Heckle You Now.

Over dinner, I finally read "Darwin's God", a NYT Magazine essay by Robin Marantz Henig that appeared on 3/4. ( Three things... )

Via mingbutterfly: a Harry Potter couple in costume. Double hee!