It’s raining here in New York which turns everything very, very gray. I went out early to my nearby bodega and grabbed a toasted bagel egg sandwich for breakfast and am now puttering about the apartment doing some spring cleaning. I got in a great writing jag yesterday at the library and may venture out again depending on how hard it’s raining this afternoon.

I started reading the Eyre Affair by Jasper Fforde last night. I’m intrigued, but I wouldn’t say I’m fully engaged with the story yet. So far it’s reading like an alternate history that may or may not have a pay off. It could be that’s simply background to the real focus which may in fact be the main character, Thursday Next. I do like the idea of the Crimea War still going on 150 years later though its apparent peripheral nature makes me wonder why. I definitely like the genetically modified pets including wingless dodos brought back from extinction. As with almost any book, however, it is significantly more interesting than television so I plan to enjoy my rainy Sunday with what I hope is going to be a very good book.

The current ones I have are no good for running. Every time I think I’ve healed and start to run again they flare up and I’m hobbled for weeks.

After many years of trying and failing to eat properly I finally got the hang of it last summer through the support and inspiration of someone very close to me. I’ve kept at it ever since and despite a few minor relapses I’ve been surprised at how habit forming healthy eating has become. Still, it takes eternal vigilance. I realized I was eating bacon a lot when I went to the Gracie Mews for breakfast so I recently started substituting tomato slices for bacon slices. I do notice the difference. It’s like trading orgasmic for organic. Close, but not really. I suspect my arteries are much happier though (pigs, too) so some good has come of it. And I do appreciate bacon all the more when I do order it. And before you say it, yes, I’ve tried turkey bacon, and like big, bloody volcanoes, it should be banned.

I’ll be flying to Canada next week. I imagine most of the refugees in the airports will be cleared out by then, but if not I’ll bring along some extra snacks and maybe some books and crossword puzzles to hand out to the bored and desperate. As frustrated and disappointed as I am at not getting to go to London for a week I am fortunate that I wasn’t stuck at an airport.

Heathrow remains closed and my trip to London is dead. Of course it could have been worse, and I could have been at the airport waiting for hours to hear, or in a plane with stalled engines silently gliding back to earth, but I’m still disappointed and wondering when the police are going to do something about volcanoes? Haven’t they caused enough death and destruction over the centuries? Isn’t it about time we stood up to volcanoes and said “No more!” Arrest them, lock them up, and throw away the key. We need to show these lava and ash spewing monsters who’s boss.