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Spent part of yesterday pulling quack grass from the median between me and next door, and woke with elbows complaining bitterly about my having done so. And then massage didn't manage to get all the knots out of my leg so I limped the rest of the day.
However I went by the bank (of Montreal) intending to check my balance, because gov't refunds go into that account and I don't find out until weeks later, and thought 'maybe I should set up online banking for this account.' And did, as also telephone banking, so at least that got accomplished only two and a half years late.
Passed a Front Lawn Library with above average offerings: The Lovely Bones, The Moor's Last Sigh, The Alienist, Earthly Powers, something else I've forgotten. I was tempted but-- Lovely Bones is about a murdered 14 year old. I don't read Rushdie if I can avoid him. I have read Earthly Powers and could not be paid to read it again. (That's the one where, if you start having Mass in the vernacular, the barbaric and literal-minded Africans will revert! to cannibalism! because that's what the Eucharist is all about, innit?) And have also read The Alienist, 30-odd years ago in Tokyo, and was kind of tempted to reread except Mt. Tsundoku doesn't need any more height and that author shares the deplorable American love of pathological serial killers. I mean, English cozies may be unlikely too, especially the classic ones, but the appeal of serial killers escapes me completely. Especially as they all seem to kill women.
I should have stopped by the real library as well because three of my four holds came in today. Instead I went back out in the evening, in my rubber gardening boat shoes which I noticed, when gardening, to be much better balanced than anything else I own. Brought running shoes as well, just in case, and a good thing too because rubber pseudo-crocs fit the smaller of my feet and rub against the larger. But anyway I now have three Ann Grangers to get me through my every other day water pill days.
However I went by the bank (of Montreal) intending to check my balance, because gov't refunds go into that account and I don't find out until weeks later, and thought 'maybe I should set up online banking for this account.' And did, as also telephone banking, so at least that got accomplished only two and a half years late.
Passed a Front Lawn Library with above average offerings: The Lovely Bones, The Moor's Last Sigh, The Alienist, Earthly Powers, something else I've forgotten. I was tempted but-- Lovely Bones is about a murdered 14 year old. I don't read Rushdie if I can avoid him. I have read Earthly Powers and could not be paid to read it again. (That's the one where, if you start having Mass in the vernacular, the barbaric and literal-minded Africans will revert! to cannibalism! because that's what the Eucharist is all about, innit?) And have also read The Alienist, 30-odd years ago in Tokyo, and was kind of tempted to reread except Mt. Tsundoku doesn't need any more height and that author shares the deplorable American love of pathological serial killers. I mean, English cozies may be unlikely too, especially the classic ones, but the appeal of serial killers escapes me completely. Especially as they all seem to kill women.
I should have stopped by the real library as well because three of my four holds came in today. Instead I went back out in the evening, in my rubber gardening boat shoes which I noticed, when gardening, to be much better balanced than anything else I own. Brought running shoes as well, just in case, and a good thing too because rubber pseudo-crocs fit the smaller of my feet and rub against the larger. But anyway I now have three Ann Grangers to get me through my every other day water pill days.
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The one I got stuck on was The Satanic Verses.
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Having read Midnight's Children, I had no desire to read Satanic Verses. I appeciate the occasional flash of cleverness but when it turns into nonstop clever-clogs Look At Me, I pass.