In which I am reminded that cooking onions and garlic smells good at a distance.
(The above picture is of the faded pen marks on my foot from my casting session earlier in the week: not an audition, but rather actual plaster casts from which Tom-the-cast-guy has made plastic casts to help me stand and walk. The pen marks highlight bones, point out good restaurants, and let the unwary cast maker know that “Here there be tygres.” Or something.)
(Direct link: /2009/02/ai180-4.mp3 )
Intro and outro music by an older gentleman who sat and played the french horn by the nurses’ station for a bit tonight. I’ll get his name and update anon.