We biked again last Saturday and hope to return to the trail this weekend.
Although the city has not yet implemented watering restrictions, our part of the world is experiencing a severe drought. It may not be apparent on the trail, but in our neighborhood, lawns are dormant, lake and creek levels are low, and new plants are dying. According to our contractor, however, this is excellent house-painting weather, so there’s that. Between you and me? I’m willing to wager that if not the snap of burlap stretched over the ornamentals then the slap of primer on the siding will be the magic rainstick that shakes some precipitation from the sky next week.
In other news, I’ve read four books since my last annotated list and am on the cusp of finishing a fifth — Invisible Man (Ralph Ellison), the June selection for the NYT’s T Book Club.
■ Know My Name: A Memoir (Chanel Miller; 2019. Non-fiction.)
“[A] devastating, immersive memoir of her sexual assault and its aftermath.“
■ Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince (J.K. Rowling; 2005. Fiction.)
Perhaps I was a bit harsh when writing about my HP reread last year, “[T]he flaws have become too big to hide under a long sweater of sentiment. They’re just not particularly well-stitched, are they?” This from a woman who has (speaking of sweaters), year in and year out, from the first cool-enough morning in October until the first too-warm morning in April, donned the same tatty, misshapen gray bundle of yarn with sleeves to take her first cup of coffee. Well-stitched or not, both the stories and my ugly old sweater comfort me. And that’s not a bad thing. No, not at all.
■ The Goshawk (T.H. White; 1951. Non-fiction.)
It has never been easy to learn life from books.
Here comes (one thought, suddenly catching oneself out) that excellent piece of work called man, with his capacity for looking before and after, his abilities to reflect upon the enigmas of philosophy, and the minted storehouse of an education that had cost between two and three thousand pounds, walking sideways to a tied bird, with his hand held out in front of him, looking the other way and meowing like a cat.
■ Leave the World Behind (Rumaan Alam; 2020. Fiction.)
“[A] disaster novel without the disaster.“
I’ve added THE GOSHAWK to my list. Thank you. I have recently finished HOW TO BE HOLY by Peter Kreeft (the title of the book is a joke according to the author who says he is actually “one bum offering another bum a bit of food”, which I think is an excellent line.) I also finished two books on slowing down the frenetic pace of life–a subject near and dear to me. They were TO HELL WITH THE HUSTLE by Jefferson Bethke and THE RUTHLESS ELIMINATION OF HURRY by John Mark Comer.
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