Lately I've been reading poems from an anthology I found on the giveaway shelf at the Harmony post office. The name of the book is Introduction to French Poetry, and the question of who in this town might have owned it is a tantalizing mystery, this not being an enclave of French-poetry readers. (And still isn't, seeing as the mystery owner or her heirs left it in the free box along with an outdated stack of AARP magazines.) I'd copy one out here except that I can't figure out how to use this post editor to add accent marks to any of the words.
Dinner: 4 more loaves of bread on the way and a standing rib roast and a bunch of as yet unnamed vegetables. Trying to clean out the freezer before the next side of beef arrives.