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. . .a burger in the morning. . .
This would be 19th and The Paseo around 9 a.m.
But that was days ago, not appropriate in a "blogsphere."
I'm not happy about living in made-up spheres. The
Biosphere project, it's not going so well.
The regular, natural one is unknow-able at best.
I had a fifth-grade teacher, a squat and squinty-faced School Sister of Notre Dame,whose flabby 60-something's waddles of triceps would wiggle as she hoisted a globe, plucked off of its arc-shaped holder, and spun it jerkily in the air while over-enunciated the word "sphere," which I shall never, ever spell incorrectly, and talked about rotation and revolution and what it was to be a sphere.
Science and Catholicism can get along. Of course, all the nutritional information in the world hasn't influenced this stranger. Sphere-belly, anyone? (Says the woman who has been known to stop for Sonic corndogs at 9 a.m. herself.)