Hey, 52 was my number in football!
Spent today cleaning and reorganizing for the most part. Put up new shelves downstairs for additional books. I’m taking a great deal of pride and pleasure from the sheer volume of books in this house. Is that wrong? I mean, attachment to material possessions isn’t a good thing, right, but books are different … aren’t they?
Good books, I mean? And educational ones? And some that are twisted and scary but well written? And some I just like?
Brendan, our oldest, came to work with me today. On the way in, we talked about all sorts of stuff – not typical 10-year-old stuff, but grown-up things, like whether people who don’t believe the same as you should still respect your beliefs. Super cool!
Then The Current spun “War!” – “Ughn! Good God, y’all! What is it good for? Absolutely nothin’! Say it again!” – and the boy began to philosophize:
“I wish we could find a better way to deal with problems that wars or the death penalty and stuff. … I wish that there wasn’t all the really bad stuff in the world – but not perfect, because nothing would be funny. If everything were perfect, there would be no laughter. … I wouldn’t want it to be perfect, and I would change the things I’ve done wrong that have gotten me in trouble because how would I learn about right and wrong? … And if we were all perfect, what would we laugh about?”
O wise child! Thy father loves thee!
Boy, that went well. Seems like I just got underway, and already here is my two-cents’ worth of analysis – Three Things to Love about The Sun Also Rises:
Next is East of Eden – I figured on reading Steinbeck, but didn’t know which one, until I met Hubba of Hubba’s House. His last name is Trask, which was too big a coincidence to overlook at the time. Jacqui of Jacqui’s Room and Deacon Tyler at Future Priests of the Third Millennium both loved it. Can’t wait!
The first thought for today is what a tremendous sense of relief I feel knowing that, as of this evening, both soccer and baseball are done for the summer. Jodi must feel ten times more relieved, since my job was usually just to relieve her at one of the fields after work so she could head to the other. She’s been Supermom – she deserves our awe, my thanks, and her own comic book.
The second thought is that every time I read Hemingway, I want to go fishing, and every time I read about Spain, I want to go to Spain. So The Sun Also Rises is thus far making me restless. It also makes me want a drink every twenty minutes or so. They drink a lot in these books. Constant buzz. At one point, the characters notice that a busy French waiter has sweated through his shirt. The stains beneath his arms are purplish. The first assumption is that the waiter must drink a lot of wine …
Scrawny chili pepper plants with no buds. Bushy little tomato plants with lots of green, but midget, romas. Bean plants, but no beans. Cucumbers just starting to bud. No sunflowers to speak of. Everything’s struggling a bit this year. The spring was cold, and I started late, but still – hope we get some veggies soon!
Archangel Stomp 