Entry 1 3:31 p.m. I have so many questions about Zagor . Three years ago, when we were traveling through Europe, we stumbled across this dilapidated bookstore on a Venice canal. It was cross between Powell's, The Strand, and a typical hoarder's house, complete with cats. The girls and I were in heaven. I think of Zagor, a comic I found in the stacks, on occasion because comics seem to me to be a peculiarly American form. Zagor looked more like a character from Harvey Birdman than from any comic universe. I am funny in that while I am fiercely protective of the past, and had a habit as the kids were growing up of taking a ridiculously uncountable number of photos, I don't revisit them, with few exceptions. The kids have never really seen the photos of their birthdays, camping trips, sleepovers. They have never asked. I'm not sure why I was so intent on capturing the moment, and why it stopped. Jenny, as predicted, is feeling better today, and ack...