Happy Birthday, Mark Twain

Mark Twain was born on November 30, 1835. Just in time for the tail end of cherimoya season (the fruit he and I both love). My parents sent me home with three of them after Thanksgiving. One of my roommates had it for the first time a few nights agoand described the texture as "buttery."

Creamy, tangy, and sort of chewy all at once. Kind of like Mark Twain's writing. At least what I've read of it.

I confess: I've yet to read The Adventures of Tom Sawyer all the way through. Maybe next year. Maybe I'll venture to one of my favorite used bookstores the next time I go down to Orange County and pick up a copy of my very own. Or someone could lend it to me. Or I could pick it up from the library.

Aside: I think it's time for me to finally become a Friend Of The Library. The library system is seriously suffering these days. From being ignored. Around my last year of high school, I started going to Barnes & Noble to study. I slowly forgot about the library as a resource even though I was practically raised in libraries (mostly Santa Ana Main & Brakensiek Branch). Support your local library. In all likelihood, it's in trouble.


Again, happy birthday, Mr. Twain. I hope you're getting all the cherimoyas you could possibly want in whatever life you're living now.