“All writers are vain, selfish and lazy, and at the very bottom of their motives there lies a mystery. Writing a book is a horrible, exhausting struggle, like a long bout of some painful illness.” — George Orwell

It’s a rainy day here in Austin, finally.

It’s quite satisfying to Mello, who takes pride in sniffing around the area. The other day we made a stop at the humane society, I guess to consider getting another dog.

We were introduced to a few dogs there and one little one that just ended up there or maybe they were called about it.

There are some neighborhood little dogs that are quite willing to walk down the sidewalk with their keepers; they don’t bark but they have become acquainted with Mello’s call from the front room window.

I grew up with a cocker spaniel that was always there at the “valley.” Jack was run over a few times and managed to recover.

At the moment Mello is laying on the back of the couch looking out the window to see someone pass by so she can bark. She ignores sirens. In other news I have returned my quest to complete You Beaucoup Dien Cai Dau, however I suspect that people who write books keep them to themselves.

Mongo, my nephew who visited this land earlier this summer, recently sent his own ‘film’ shot with his little eye pad or whatever it’s called. Some of the samples showed high school students doing strange routines.

On a sad note Minneapolis’ graduation rates and test scores for impoverished and minority students border on “criminal,” said Betty Webb, a former Minneapolis principal and associate superintendent.

“Bright spots exist. Almost all groups of students in Minneapolis, regardless of income or race, are earning diplomas at higher rates and taking more advanced classes while in high school, district data shows,” she said.

The largest gains have come in the graduation rate for Latino students, which has more than doubled since 2003.