My mother was a voracious reader. We would go to the local library and she would leave with her arms full of books. Although I know she read a reasonable sampling of classic literature, her strength was mostly in mysteries, romances, and more popular authors. At one point I realized that she was reading as many as three of those fat bodice-rippers a day .. day after day.Continue reading “A Book a Day”
Having grown up in the 1950s and ’60s I often am amazed at all the parts of everyday life that we didn’t even imagine when I was a wee bairn.
First, we didn’t say “Under God” when we pledged allegiance to the flag (it took me most of the year to remember where that phrase was supposed to be inserted into the pledge) and there were no West Coast baseball teams. Speaking of baseball, we listened to the games on the radio (there was no television in our house) and since the World Series was restricted to day games more than a few guys had small crystal radios with an earplug to keep up with the score during penmanship exercises. No batteries required!Continue reading “Adventures In Two Rooms”
At this rate I may plow through several centuries of classical literature and gobble down the tastiest titles served on the front table at Barnes and Noble. Yet I’m also dedicating a few hours each day to watching classic movies on Criterion and more than a few video series on Amazon or Netflix or even HBO Max. Finally, although I’m not sure if it’s a sign of health or sickness, I’m enjoying an inordinate number of hours of deep, dream-filled sleep.
Strange. It’s like being in the Good Place Upside-Down.
Ricky sleeps under my desk most of the day and despite my complaints, he’s only a whining pest a couple of hours each day. He’s too old for romping in the yard or tossing toys around but has developed a keen sense of perpetual food-lust that I, being a very old soft-touch, tend to honor with a small treat or two, just to take the edge off the histrionics of starvation.Continue reading “Snoring From Under the Desk”