A Quiet Week

I had a lovely, long weekend, which I spent mostly at home.  Amazing how much I can do around the house if I’m there.  I managed a good start at a satisfying sort and clear out.  I can see flat surfaces again!  Life plan – live at home.

Our good friends are moving to Boston – their house needed to be packed by yesterday.  So I’ve been watching their son, very good friend of the kid, most evenings.  No, these evenings aren’t quiet in the literal sense.  But they’re wonderfully unexciting.

I’ve been reading, of course.  We (the two boys and I) had a good bookstore browse the other day.  They sprawled in the corner with the children’s books and I sat in the tiny aisles leafing through this and that – art (a study of anatomy through drawings – fascinating to look at injection sites from artists’ perspectives, Tasha Tudor, keeping a sketchbook), gardening (old gardening essays and I can’t remember the years but maybe late 1800’s or maybe I’m just making that up), mysteries.  A good browse.  And then we were hungry.

Of course I bought a book or two.

Sock and Glove: Creating Charming Softy Friends from Cast-off Socks and Gloves by Miyako Kanamori.  Nice variety of mostly animals, simple execution, nice results.  Of course, the fun comes in the finishing.  I’m inclined towards simple, but what fun with lots of frou-frou!

Donna Leon, Acqua Alta.  Mystery set in Venice.  I’ve never read her books that I remember.  I’ll be reading more.  Good, solid writing.  Good story.  Very much of the place, evocative, without explaining/describing everything.

Sara Stein, My Weeds: A Gardener’s Botany.  I really enjoy reading about fascinations and investigations and the process of learning, and of course learning from it all myself.    From an early chapter, The Anatomy of a Weed (p 27),

When I had gotten this far in my researches, it occurred to me that plants are not like animals.  There is something overly plastic about their anatomy, too much flexibility in the functioning of their parts.  Peanuts capped my exasperation.  They are flowers that, once pollinated, shed their petals and grow downward into the soil to ripen their fruit underground.  I no longer was sure whether, when I dug the fork deep into the soil, I was uprooting, upstemming, or upleaving weeds.  Perhaps I was deflowering them.

Nothing I can add.

Also recently read:

Terry Pratchett, Reaper Man.   I particularly liked this story of Death from the Discworld.  Serious and sad and funny.

Curtis Sittenfeld, the man of my dreams.  I never felt pulled into the story or much interest in the characters.  Not my cup of tea. 


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