Last night I was watching Cops and they had a segment filmed in Palm Beach County. I was especially fascinated when the text on the screen showed that the cop was patrolling the Northlake area. I saw that and said out loud: "North cake."

I couldn't help it; it's a reflex.

Alane, who was disgusted that I'd be watching the show, was sitting next to me reading a book. I picked up the phone and said to her: "I'm going to call Steve and get him to say the words 'north cake.'"

So I dialed the phone and told Steve that I was watching a police car patrol Northlake. He said: "North cake."

This morning I got up very early and started the gravy to the lilting tunes of The Smiths. Been a while since I played that stuff. And I had to laugh as Morrissey groaned out his "...the calf that you carve with a smile, is murder..." as I was just then in the process of slicing some beef shanks to get better browning of the meat around the bone.

I'll make the meatballs when we get back from Mass. Maybe for that I'll play "Every Day Is Like Sunday."