I'm becroggled. I've never made a pie crust with anything other than butter.

Thus pleased, laid back, up through the elm we look: / What life the little Creeper of the Tree / To leafdom lends!

So was the cellist Charlotte Moorman, muse to Nam June Paik and proactivism champion of all things fringe.

Dag and I are drying glasses, a strangely restful activity, and we're listening to Mr. M. do his Mr. M. shtick. We feed him lines; it's like watching a Bob Hope TV special but with home viewer participation.