My Aunt sent me a chain letter via the USPS which is not ignorable the way an email chain is. On the back of the instruction letter is someone’s return address label and the letter itself tells you to send a book that you love (used, currently own and no longer need) to the person on the back via the USPS. Then, you are to make six copies of the letter, affix the 6 included return address labels to the back and send out the letter to six new people, each with six of your own (so a total of 36) address labels included. Thus, by sending one book, you will get 36. Will you actually get 36 books? I don’t know. On one hand, it seems somewhat fun to receive 36 books in the mail. Not only that, but I laud the usually dreaded chain letter that pushes reading instead of lies: how quaint. However, it is still a chain letter and now I am roped in. If I don’t send a book, I have to return the letter to my Aunt, confirming the fact that I am an ungrateful lazy sap or something along those lines. While I do want 36 books in the mail (selfishly), I do not wish to drag six other hapless and unfortunately ignorant souls into the mess without their consent. Thus, I need six volunteers who would like to play along. Please!

Just so you know, I sent out my book today. It only cost me $1.98 to send it. I sent Edith Wharton’s Ethan Frome because I had three copies already; it’s one of my absolute all time favorites.

In other news, Sierra and I went to run the fire road to Fallen Leaf Lake today, which happens to pass through the Angora Fire burn area. It is the first time we’ve been able to run this route in almost 10 months, save a couple of worthless attempts when the snow started to fall that proved to be mushy and futile. Even at 50 degrees, the road was blazing hot today due to the lack of tree cover. Everything in there is completely black: the ground, the trees. It is completely silent for about a mile and a half as you run through complete desolation and then, out of nowhere, there is about 20 feet of brown and then lush greenness again. There are no birds in the burn area, no squirrels, no chip monks. As I run, I keep thinking I am going to see a coyote on the trail since it is the only animal that would seem to fit in such a place. I don’t, of course.

The price of food is getting a little ridiculous. My monthly food bill almost doubled last month and I wasn’t do much different.