Cactus Gardens, Part 1

Most photography by O. Glazier / Edited by A. Glazier

To Dismay of Inspectors, Prowling Cats Keep Rodents on the Run at City Delis

New York: Across the city, delis and bodegas are a familiar and vital part of the streetscape, modest places where customers can pick up necessities, a container of milk, a can of soup, a loaf of bread.

Amid the goods found in the stores, there is one thing that many owners and employees say they cannot do without: their cats. And it goes beyond cuddly companionship. These cats are workers, tireless and enthusiastic hunters of unwanted vermin, and they typically do a far better job than exterminators and poisons.

When a bodega cat is on the prowl, workers say, rats and mice vanish. NY Times

The star treatment

Famous 10-week-old child star, Lola Renee', suing 6-year old personal assistant over disappearance of the glam infant's designer sunglasses . . .

News at 11.

1-800-ELF-HELP

"Your call is important to us!" Part 1

Is it really?

Is it so important to you that you have no problem keeping me on hold for eternity and then moments before I'm about to hang up from phone cradle fatigue, your voice pipes up, "Hi, my name's Loretta. How can I help you?" (I pause) Is this a human being or digitally composed android? "Um, I need to cancel my account." (Loretta pauses) "I'm sorry, I didn't understand. Can you repeat that?" (I do repeat that. Three. Excruciating. Times.) Finally the phone line sqwaks and I hear some unidentifiable distant music." Many eons later . . . "Thank you for calling. Your call is important to us." Um, yes, you told me. "I'm now going to tell you our menu options . . . " Okay, sister, let's get a move on. "To change the status of your account, press 1." To change your account address, press 2." To troubleshoot, press 3." It could be 1 or 3, but 2 is unlikely. I go for 1 and am sent to another digital android. This one coughed continually. I asked if everything was okay and that just resulted in more coughing. Finally, I was transferred to someone else who's title sound suspicially like, "Head Franken Squirrel." Well, if the squirrel can cancel my account then he's okay by me. "Yes, hello, how can I help you?" "Yes, I'd like to cancel my account." "Yes, hello, how can I help you?" Either he has an attention deficit disorder or he's in denial or he's messing with me. Long pause. Is he trying to make me uncomfortable? His voice changes. Less squirrel. More badger. I'm no longer someone who needs special treatment . . . The background music stops. To be continued . . .

'An Early ripe Apple and good in taste'

John Tradescant (~1570-1632) and his son, also named John (1608-1662), were gardeners to the nobility and royalty of England and both travelled widely collecting botanical specimens. Between them they introduced a large number of foreign species (including many of the fruits depicted) that remain prevalent in the average English gardens of today. From Bibliodyssey.

Å vere Leiv Eriksson

Djupa i sinnet er til forveksling lik djupa i havet.

Å vere Leiv Eriksson

How convenient

Be careful when you unsubscribe to email newsletters, you never know what effect it might have . . .

"You have been unsubscribed from the following:

• Your Health and Happiness

Please note that it may take up to 72 hours for the new settings to go into effect."

Portable Moose Head.

Yes, Portable Moose Head. Yes, someone sells them. You never know when they'll come in handy. Stock up today!

If an unwanted book falls into a poorly-maintained storage facility and no one is there to hear it, does it make a sound?

Essay about the future of unwanted books. From BldgBlog . . .

I'm reminded of a few lines from The Name of the Rose by Umberto Eco, in which the book's narrator and his well-read "master," William of Baskerville, break into a labyrinthine library after dark – a library full of mirrors, unmarked halls, and trick doorways. (While lost in the library, the narrator beautifully remarks: "I proceeded as if in the grip of a fever, nor did I know where I wanted to go.")

The architects of the library were, in fact, quite clever, mixing climate control with acoustic design:

"The library must, of course, have a ventilation system," William said. "Otherwise the atmosphere would be stifling, especially in the summer. Moreover, those slits provide the right amount of humidity, so the parchments will not dry out. But the cleverness of the architects did not stop there. Placing the slits at certain angles, they made sure that on windy nights the gusts penetrating from these openings would encounter other gusts, and swirl inside the sequence of rooms, producing the sounds we have heard. Which, along with the mirrors and the herbs, increase the fear of the foolhardy who come in here, as we have, without knowing the place well. And we ourselves for a moment thought ghosts were breathing on our faces."

"In any case," the book goes on, "we need two things: to know how to get into the library at night, and a lamp."

After all, the narrator then says, "I felt inclined to disobedience and decided to return to the library alone. I myself didn't know what I was looking for. I wanted to explore an unknown place on my own; I was fascinated by the idea of being able to orient myself there without my master's help."

And so he goes, lamp in hand, heading into that unlit space full of books that no one's reading, in a surround-sound of breezes, looking for something he knows he'll never find.