Dinner with Ms. R last night, home by ten, in bed by eleven, although I awoke around three and it took me another hour of futzing around to get back to sleep. This happens, but not that often. They write about this getting older business in the press: memory loss being related to waking in the middle of the night, stated this morning (for example) in The New York Times, a published letter stating this flatly from a doctor with many letters after his name. Well, if it happens “now and again” I'll say there's nothing to worry about. It could have been caused by all that excitement having dinner with Ms. R.

Ms. Emmy is going through a throwing up on the rugs phase at the moment. She's done this as long as she's been with me, some five years, so I guess it isn't going to kill her. I'm less than happy cleaning up the carpets, but when you've had cats as long as I have you don't worry about it. I understand the same rule applies with children. Look into a woman's eyes who's raised a child: the infinite wisdom of a thousand Zen lessons learned; of what's important and what's not. Taking care of cats is but a pale introduction to rug stains and Nature's Miracle (in the economy size bottle). I know this. No complaints.

I mentioned I watched No Country for Old Men yesterday, the latest of the Coen brothers' films. Very nice. I think of their films as being uneven in the sense that many of their scenes are original and brilliant, but some of them, particularly the dialogue, overreach and fall flat. Miller's Crossing, a favorite, has dialogue (very ambitious dialogue) that just doesn't work either because of the writing or the actors' inability to bring it off. No Country for Old Men has none of these weak elements and I understand why it won so many awards. The recognizable Coen brothers outdoor cinematography is superb. I'd say go see it, but I suspect you already have.