The Burrow

.... at least not the raucous, back of the throat, ear splitting cackle that emanated from Tom Magliozzi every Saturday and Sunday morning in my car. Little girls, and then bigger girls, would groan when I switched the radio from Backstreet Boys to NPR's Car Talk, two men talking about auto repair.  Little Cuter's reassurance went a long way toward calming them down.  "Just listen.  They are really really really funny. Just listen." And so they did.  They sat in the back seat of my Audi station wagon as I ferried them to Ukiah and Sebastopol and Rohnert Park to play soccer, to stop at In-and-Out Burger, and then to drive home.  All day, both days, every weekend for years and years and years, I spent surrounded by high pitched girl squealing and low pitched men's laughter.  Those are some of my favorite memories. Little Cuter and I spent an hour or so in the offices of Car Talk in Cambridge, or  our fair city as the Magliozzi brothers ...

I'm giving you fair warning: this may not be a very long post. I walked home from G'ma's pod-castle today, listening to this week's Car Talk podcast on my iPod and feeling very proud of myself for no reason at all. The temperatures are perfect and most of the snow birds are still clinging to their real homes up north so the traffic around town hasn't reached its full winter proportions. Still, there was enough road noise that Tom and Ray were virtually shouting in my ears in order to be heard. By the time I got home, I was a rather unpleasant combination of exertion and exhaust fumes. The cupboards are bare, as I go through my annual what am I not going to eat that would be good for the food pantry cleansing. I'm through the first shelf already; the goal is to have it all reviewed and renewed before the Little Cuter shows up to do her Rachael Ray impersonation in my kitchen. Sharing Thanksgiving with a daughter who loves to cook is one of life's great joys. ...