I doubt this is what Phil Gramm meant by "nation of whiners", but that memorable phrase of his sometimes to mind when I hear Americans complaining about their lot in news interviews.

There are two puppies left, out of the litter of five. Tiny #1 and Tiny #2 died the afternoon and evening that Zhuoma left for Weixi, which was the day after Jumbo had suddenly ballooned to about 3x their size. I think they got out-competed for milk.

It's the coverage of the random but useful stuff like this that I really like about the Economist (and non-mainstream-American media in general)

. . . become law by June 16th, any American who wants to surrender his passport has only a few days to do so before facing an enormous penalty.

That penalty is buried in an innocuous piece of legislation with the veto-proof name, Heroes Earnings Assistance and Relief Tax (HEART) act.

The Olympic torch passed through town today. I woke up at around 6, not especially for the torch, but because I've been waking up around early (5-6 a.m.) every morning recently.

The torch started out in the horse racing track. The army has been camped out there since March, but I figure they've temporarily cleared out for the torch and for the horse festival, which has been delayed until tomorrow.

I realize this morning that I haven't heard my dog for a while. I go outside.

"Squeak!"

No response.

I notice that the door downstairs is closed. Usually I leave the door open so that I don't accidentally forget he's inside. Zhuoma seems to have closed it when moving some things from what was previously her shop back to the house.

"Uh oh," I think, "he's starved to death in there."

I push open the door and call out some more. Still no repsonse.

A dip in Google search traffic during the three minute moment of silence on May 19 mourning the victims of the Sichuan Earthquake.

When the space above the stove is "hot," instead of "not cold."