of interest to no one but myself, perhaps

The same things keep cropping up around me.
Verbally, visually, it's a little strange.
For example, I spent the day with Youngest yesterday, who is doing poorly but will be well in time, thank you, and amidst the three thousand questions a doctor asked him was the usual any allergies question, to which he replied that he is allergic to horses, pine trees and dust, all proved out with blood tests last year.  We were in the ER at the time and a bracelet was made for him toot sweet which said: HORSES in the space normally reserved for PENICILLIN. I find that humorous.
Earlier in the week we were all marveling at this! And not only do we think the very IDEA of a chalkboard horse is GENIUS, but we did the math and have seen that it is LUCRATIVE as well! I do believe the gift of a chalkboard horse is brilliant and would encourage you to purchase one. TOOT SWEET.
Then, today, I arrived at my office and received a thank-you from a little girl and what has she done? Illustrated the card WITH A HORSE.
Finally, I read through my subscriptions on Google Reader and spied this.
So. Horses. Everywhere.

I rode the train this morning with a woman I've been spying on for some time. She is very tiny and has a distinct Linda Hunt look. She has a very expensive handbag and discreet but important jewelry. She reads a lot of magazines and has a wee tiny Barbour jacket and nicely tailored trousers and lives in my town and works down the block from my office. (Imagine? I see her in the parking lot at the train station and then ride or walk downtown with her and she continues on to a building just past my office, much like Cole-Haan.)
Today she sat next to me and settled herself in and began reading and I realized, much to my horror, that her air (not her breath, exactly, as I could not directly smell her breath) smelled terrible! I grabbed some gum and attempted to breathe through my scarf to no avail. Strangely, my iPod was of some comfort. Don't ask me how.

I simply cannot believe that Christmas is upon us. I mean, I realize that it is three weeks away but, surely, that time will pass in a flash. I'm not ready. I'm not going to be ready.

Finally, I'm watching The Men Who Stare At Goats. I've seen it four times now, in various pieces, and have to say that I didn't think much of it the first couple of times. Now, however, I do believe it's pretty good. Even if you don't agree, I think we can all say that there's nothing wrong with looking at George Clooney for an hour and forty minutes.