Usual workday shenanigans, getting Amelia dressed and fed and her lunch packed and off to school. Ruth Anne was kind enough to drive her in, so I could get to work. Work means upstairs to tele-commute to San Francisco, specifically Alexa Internet ( Currently I'm nudging my search engine, AndyVista in new directions. Having made it really small in the last go-round, it's now time to make it a little bit bigger, adding back in phrases and more data for relevance ranking.

Also, I finally got around to writing up a review of Tom Weller's The Book of Stupid Questions, so now all four of his books are in the database. If only I could pry some biographical information out of him, I'd create a wu for Tom himself.

Afterward we packed, picked up Amelia, and headed east to Murphin Ridge Inn, in a little town called West Union, about a hour east of Cincinnati on Route 32. The plan was to get far away from the city lights to better see the Leonid Meteor Shower in the wee hours of Tuesday morning.

The dinner we were served there was something really quite special. No part of it could be considered especially fancy, but each and every part was remarkable tasty. The tomato bisque, creamy and piquant; the salad with an exquisite celery seed dressing; both entrees, chicken with mushroom sauce and a white fish whose name escapes me, both served with sweet potatoes, carrots and a sort of pickled cabbage kind of thing, and apple crisp a la mode. To make thing even better, it was a slow night at the Inn, and the waitress was quite taken with Amelia, so she took Amelia off our hands for a few minutes, a few different times, and let Ruth Anne and I eat in peace, and also let us both eat at the same time.

At the risk on encroaching upon tomorrow's write up, we got up at 5 AM to see the meteor storm, and saw only clouds.