Buttons

As you're all dying to know what happened with the time fiasco, of course, let me reassure you that I was very prompt and almost early. It was at 9:30, but we are in fact leaving this office at nine. So really I was only forty minutes early.

Madame had a dream last night that her daughter Nina was on the tram and covered in buttons. I didn't really understand the rest of it but she said something about taking her to the doctor.

This is what nightmares are made of for children and parents alike. No cushy foam padding here, nuh uh. This is sharp edges, awkward angles, and the smooth sound of pure concrete. No tires were harmed in the making of this playground.


Here's another forboding look at the old-school (hah, pun) University of Medicine. Nostradamus went here and was, consequently, kicked out because he had been an apothecary, a 13th century no-no. I hear tell that the museum at the School of Medicine still has the record of his expulsion.