Speaking of Robert Louis Stevenson, last Saturday I went to a book sale up in Fullerton. It was kind of crowded, especially for some strange reason around the paperback fiction table. I was trying to peer over people's shoulders in an attempt to see if there were any paperback books I wanted. Apparently some woman coming in the opposite direction felt that I should have moved out of her way because she said, in a not very informative tone, "You know, there's a whole other paperback table over there."
I said, "Well go look at it then."
Fortunately, I said it sotto voce. But I began to wonder where it had come from. I am usually exceedingly polite, except with my children or my cats or when I'm driving in my car. I felt sort of like there was a Mr (or Mrs) Hyde inside me, driven to peep out once in a while by difficult circumstances, like when unpleasant ladies hint that I should get out of their way when I was there first and besides I'm taller than she is.
I mention this just to show I can write short blog entries.