I'm in the final sections of Little Dorrit. I cannot remember if I read it all before, or just most of it. I like it very much this time. The saucer magnolia in the backyard is in full bloom. I have some cool ocean DVDs to watch. I saw two kestrels at lunchtime. I thought today about a drive from California to Texas in the mid-1990s. We pulled up to a convenience store in the middle of the desert. we found a set of gang members in the store, who had passed us earlier in very expensive luxury cars--a kind of caravan of conspicuous consumption. In the store, I remember how the owners looked a bit nervous, like a living embodiment of American Gothic. The gang members were completely peaceable, and later their caravan passed us again on the road. Soon the trout lillys will bloom. Other than "The Carrie Diaries", Monday night television is a desert.