......which is my way of telling you that it actually rained today. A bit. More like what they call Irish mist in Ireland, but it happens so seldom here that everyone makes a fuss!!
Thanksgiving has come and gone, without incident, that is, I did not mention that I was upset at being unable to bring my friends. It was actually a lovely evening; everyone loved my turkey (and stuffing and gravy and cranberry sauce), evidenced by the fact that they gobbled it up. That, of course, made me happy. I love people eating well, especially food I have cooked. I don't know why I don't invite people over more often. Partially, of course, its because it is not as much fun when you are alone. David and I used to collaborate on the guest list and the menu, and although he wasn't the best of cooks, he was the best of hosts. I have pretty much steeled myself not to miss that, but every once in a while...
Anyway, the guests were lovely, great conversation, altogether a nice evening.
And, about the only thing that happened all week, except for the usual round of activities already mentioned. More books, of course. One, called the Sherlock Holmes Book, was actually a page turner, a precis of all the stories, with sidebars about Victorian London, the development of Holmes and Watson and all the other characters, and literary and film offshoots. (The authors were very much taken with the most recent iteration by Bennedict Cumberbach.) I dipped in and out of it for a while, then read it cover to cover.
And another new addition to my repertoire, Karen Bender. I read a collection of her short stories called The New Order, She is obviously very much troubled by the lack of civility in our new world order (as, of course, are we all), and the stories all address that in various ways. It spoke to me.
And now, on a different tack altogether, I am reading The Court Dancer, a novel by Kyung-Sook Shin, apparently a very famous Korean author. As always, when reading about India or Egypt of Japan or China or, now, Korea, I feel as though I were being transported to a different world. To me, this is what reading is about. I feel sorry for those who don't - or can't - read. It gives me so much joy.
And - mostly - keeps loneliness from my door.
Hard to believe I have been here a month. But, for sure man, for sure, there is no place else I would rather be.....
Thanksgiving has come and gone, without incident, that is, I did not mention that I was upset at being unable to bring my friends. It was actually a lovely evening; everyone loved my turkey (and stuffing and gravy and cranberry sauce), evidenced by the fact that they gobbled it up. That, of course, made me happy. I love people eating well, especially food I have cooked. I don't know why I don't invite people over more often. Partially, of course, its because it is not as much fun when you are alone. David and I used to collaborate on the guest list and the menu, and although he wasn't the best of cooks, he was the best of hosts. I have pretty much steeled myself not to miss that, but every once in a while...
Anyway, the guests were lovely, great conversation, altogether a nice evening.
And, about the only thing that happened all week, except for the usual round of activities already mentioned. More books, of course. One, called the Sherlock Holmes Book, was actually a page turner, a precis of all the stories, with sidebars about Victorian London, the development of Holmes and Watson and all the other characters, and literary and film offshoots. (The authors were very much taken with the most recent iteration by Bennedict Cumberbach.) I dipped in and out of it for a while, then read it cover to cover.
And another new addition to my repertoire, Karen Bender. I read a collection of her short stories called The New Order, She is obviously very much troubled by the lack of civility in our new world order (as, of course, are we all), and the stories all address that in various ways. It spoke to me.
And now, on a different tack altogether, I am reading The Court Dancer, a novel by Kyung-Sook Shin, apparently a very famous Korean author. As always, when reading about India or Egypt of Japan or China or, now, Korea, I feel as though I were being transported to a different world. To me, this is what reading is about. I feel sorry for those who don't - or can't - read. It gives me so much joy.
And - mostly - keeps loneliness from my door.
Hard to believe I have been here a month. But, for sure man, for sure, there is no place else I would rather be.....
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