The Anatomy of Motive by John Douglas and Mark Olshaker (they’re FBI Profilers, and the Scott Glenn character in Silence of the Lambs was based on John Douglas), and talk about a book that breeds paranoia! I was walking down the street in broad, sunshiny daylight, and at one point, just ahead of me, there was an older man walking his little yappy dog. He stepped to the side of the road to let the dog do his/ her business in a little patch of woods, and as I came abreast of them, I cast a gimlet eye over the man. He smiled and nodded, saying "Good morning." "Good morning," I replied, then watched as he crossed the street and continued on his way. I turned left onto a cross-street and kept casting subtle little glances (not) over my shoulder to make sure he wasn’t going to sneak up behind me and strangle me with the dog’s leash. As I walked (and glanced), I took stock of everything on my person, trying to figure out how I’d defend myself if he did turn out to be a psycho strangler type. I could bang him over the head with the walkman! I could gouge his eyes out with the garage door opener! I could moisten his lips with a stick of Blistex! Oh, the possibilities were endless. Needless to say, I didn’t see him again before the end of my walk. Anyway, speaking of the yard guys, it took them (there were two) FOUR HOURS to pull up the weeds in our three small flower beds, put down black felt, and cover it with red mulch. Four hours, man, can you believe that? Let me tell y’all, once I’m skinny and flexible enough to do things like gardening without gasping for breath and fainting on the lawn, I’ll be the main caretaker of our lawn. I will be the one who mows and whacks weeds and prettifies our flower beds and prunes our bushes and fertilizes the lawn! Okay I WOULD, if I weren’t so durn lazy… —–]]>