I'm in the middle of a tedious project, finally ripping all of the unripped CDs that we own. This has been going on for almost two weeks now and I can see the end. There are three stacks like this or so left to rip, plus anything we root out of the cars or the kids' CD players.

My great-great-grandfather looks on disapprovingly (he was a plain-spoken sort, that one), at this digital frippery.

"Why can't you just be happy?" he says, "All this foolishness, you haven't been in the war, nor worked double-shifts over glowing, molten glass at the glass factory."

"At least I'm not posing with a drawing of a horse, nor dead. Yet," I mutter, out of range of his hearing, of course.

There's some pasta/play-doh sculpture at hand, as well, thanks to my girls.

You can poke your snoot in if you'd like to see the titles on the cases.