The sun has finally come out this morning. The rains have subsided for the time being. Starbucks is quiet, with a few onlookers at the food counter wondering what salad or overpriced sandwich they'll eat for lunch. I'm still trying to figure out the Starbucks appeal. It's a branding iron. The cattle must have their Guatemala Antigua blend.

I have an uneaten banana staring at me as if to say, "What are you waiting for? I'm here." My routine the past few weeks has been to visit the local grocery store for a banana and yogurt. Then I settle down at Starbucks for a few hours of reading, writing, and googling online. My banana knows I'll eventually get to her, but she's impatient. The yogurt has already served its purpose. Life does have its small pleasures.

I've been on CraigsList looking for writing jobs in the Las Vegas area. I found only one descent lead. Most of the posts are junk ads for web sites seeking content. For the most part I think it's waste of time. However, in the real estate area I have made contact with a few Las Vegas agents and local investors.

I finished the book Grant and Sherman by Charles Bracelen Flood. I was emotionally moved by the description of the two-day parade that celebrated the end of the war, the armies of the east and west, the coming together of Grant and Sherman at the reviewing stand. What a scene it must have been. Five weeks after Lincoln was assassinated, the parade was a celebration with 80,000 soldiers marching before a crowd that cheered, roared and cried for a group of men who saved the nation. I wish I had been there.

I love reading about the Civil War, the stories of men and their relationships with each other. I read earlier this month, for example, about Grant moving on Fort Donelson. The fort was deserted by most of the generals and many of the soldiers, leaving in command an old acquaintance of Grant, a fellow named Simon Bolivar Buckner. Buckner loaned Grant some money years before when Grant was penniless, getting off a boat in Manhattan. Now Buckner finds himself surrendering to "Unconditional Surrender" Grant at the fort after a couple of days of fighting in the rain and swamps of the Tennessee River. Grant walked with Buckner down to the dock to see him off, as Buckner was being sent back to Cairo as a prisoner of war. Grant pulled him aside and said, "…you are seperated from your people…perhaps you need some funds...my purse is at your disposal."

I also read the story of Voltaire P. Twombley, a soldier involved in the fight to capture the fort. Three flag bearers had fallen to musket rounds, and Twombley was not afraid to become the fourth. He hoisted the flag and ran along the side of his commander, Brigadier General Charles F. Smith, to take the slopes of the fort. A musket ball hit Twombley hard enough to knock him down, but being that it was shot from a far distance, it did no critical damage. Twombley won the Congressional Medal of Honor for his role in the battle. That name is a strange one, though.