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Snow on snow. Not huge amounts but not negligible either. Thus, boots, alas. And I need to get over past Bathurst to my restaurant that's closing, and to drop off some unusable material to someone who's taking it to recycling at the end of the month.
I noticed last week that my furnace was no longer clunking when it turned off, as is its annoying wont. The only other time it was silent was when the technician came to look at it to see why it clunks. But then I changed the furnace filter, same as the old one but no matter: now it clunks again.
Otherwise, books finished:
One Virgin Too Many, a reread of Falco because I've forgotten what happened in that one.
Lavender House, as noted before.
Silent Nights, a collection of classic Christmas mysteries, at least four of which I'd read previously- The Blue Carbuncle, Wimsey and the stolen pearls, Campion and the deed box, and a John Dickson Carr that actually makes no sense.
Reading now is Mortal Follies
To be read: well, I have Ishiguro's Klara and the Sun and we shall see how I get on with it. Ishiguro and I have a not very happy relationship.
I noticed last week that my furnace was no longer clunking when it turned off, as is its annoying wont. The only other time it was silent was when the technician came to look at it to see why it clunks. But then I changed the furnace filter, same as the old one but no matter: now it clunks again.
Otherwise, books finished:
One Virgin Too Many, a reread of Falco because I've forgotten what happened in that one.
Lavender House, as noted before.
Silent Nights, a collection of classic Christmas mysteries, at least four of which I'd read previously- The Blue Carbuncle, Wimsey and the stolen pearls, Campion and the deed box, and a John Dickson Carr that actually makes no sense.
Reading now is Mortal Follies
To be read: well, I have Ishiguro's Klara and the Sun and we shall see how I get on with it. Ishiguro and I have a not very happy relationship.
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My trouble with Ishiguro is that I always feel a sense of menace in his works, however mundane they may seem to be, as if horrors are just out of sight waiting to leap out at me. They didn't, ultimately, in The Remains of the Day (which still left me depressed) but boy howdy did they in Never Let Me Go.