It was a Good Chili Dog, and Mummy P. is Doing Fine, But it's Good to Be Back Home

Home, Sweet Home.

Plotnik is home, sitting in his office watching the Rose Bowl. He doesn't care about the Rose Bowl. He could eat another chili half-smoke from Ben's Chili Bowl in D.C., but, barring that, it just feels good to have his feet up and nothing planned.

These days he is always shocked, at first glance, when he sees Mummy Plotnik. She is so thin, so lined, so frail looking. But you know what -- the lady is not frail. She can't remember much and she doesn't operate very well in situations larger than one-on-one, but as long as you remember the rules it's kind of astonishing how well she is doing.

Yes, it's "have you had breakfast?" and "have you had breakfast?" and "have you had breakfast?" And yes, because she forgets things so easily, she is often upset because she's sure people have stopped calling her or coming over.

But when you point out to her that she just went out to lunch with Lila and Paula and Ric were over last week and the phone hasn't stopped ringing on New Year's Day, she nods her head and says "Well, I forgot. I guess I'm just an old lady."

And then "have you had breakfast? Have you had breakfast? Have you had breakfast?"

Plot and Duck took a walk yesterday, up the hill towards Mulholland and then across and down Wrightwood back to the house. They weren't really ready to go in yet, so they sat on someone's grass and thought about how beautiful it is in Stiletto City in December and January. The air is clean, the sky is blue and it's always warm. There aren't too many nicer places to spend a winter, weather-wise.

It was really nice for Peter to get pregnant at the same time as his daughter, Hannah.

It was also great to see the designer door opener still in use after nine years.

New Shmork rocked for Christmas, but OK. Next year in Saint Plontiko. Or la Cueva de las Manos Pintadas.