Category: books
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Books!
I finished off the last of the books I’ve been reading this month: Of A Fire On The Moon I’ve never read anything by Norman Mailer before. This is one hell of a way to start. I’ve picked up Of A Fire On The Moon at least twice, once when I was in high school Read.
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Shelf-Improvement
I don’t know how many books we have. I wouldn’t be able to give you even a ball park figure. Could be hundreds, could be thousands, I have no way of knowing, because most of them are doubled up in the garage-sale book shelves we’ve collected over the years, and a significant number are still Read.
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Let The Unemployment Begin!
Let the four-day weekend begin! Oh, wait … I’m unemployed, so it’s really more like an indefinite weekend. Well, whatever. I applied for unemployment first thing yesterday morning … or rather, it was first thing after doinking around on the internet for an hour, because I wasn’t sure I’d be able to do it until Read.
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Ex Libris
I finally finished The Great Influenza, a history of the Spanish influenza pandemic. Very cheery book. Millions died, nobody quite got the hang of a vaccination, and the message throughout the book was “The next pandemic is on the way!” You should read it. Back home, I found a copy of The Right Stuff while Read.
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that was the day that was
On this misty, crappy, cold day we declined to make the usual weekly circuit of the farmer’s market, so instead My Darling B offered to take me to Plaka Taverna for brunch. Plaka used to be Cleveland’s Diner, one of our favorite places to get breakfast on a Sunday, and they still serve what they Read.
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LeGuin
If you like to read fiction but you’ve never read science fiction because of the geek factor, or you’ve tried but you found it too technical or fantastic, you ought to give Ursula Le Guin’s work a try before you give up on the genre entirely. She doesn’t write just science fiction; she’s well-known for Read.
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Salinger
I’ve been listening to misty-eyed Salinger fans sobbing about what an All-American Novel Catcher In The Rye was and feeling more than awkward about my guilty little secret: It’s not my favorite Salinger novel. It’s good and all, but honestly I thought Salinger was a much better short-story writer than a novelist. And the only Read.
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the final frontier
Our regular Saturday stop at St Vincent de Paul’s thrift store yielded only a few treasures this week. My Darling B didn’t find one old platter or kitchen gadget that caught her fancy. I, on the other hand, found a little treasure called The Cambridge Encyclopedia of Space. I’ve got so many books about manned Read.
This Is Drivel 