The dried beans in the plastic diet coke bottles and Pringle's cans made for some really workable percussion. But how did I spill so many on the floor? I remember, too, buying the cheap dollar store stickers, but I don't remember buying them in such profusion. There must be, what, twelve dollars' worth of stickers here, which, for those less used to dollar stores, probably equates to enough stickers to start a postal service in a third world country. Meanwhile, I pick up from the floor the Blau Reiter Almanac, and read a chasm must exist between art and the general public. A faded book promises that the c3 Sicilian system is "not so prosaic and inactive as it may initially seem", which may explain why I never play the c3 line against the Sicilian. Thank Heaven for green maracas. They're a bulwark against despair during Spring cleaning. It's time to take a break for a long hike, anyway. I have much to do this weekend, and I'm working on it.