2. Went to Tassie with Frederique. It was cold. Saw Grandma and Grandad (well, Mum and Dad to me), ate well, read in comfortably furnished well-lit house and coveted their new camera. Mum...use it. Do not be afraid. You own the camera, it does not own you.
3. Am refining my reading list for holidaying (as of Wednesday 11th). So far on the list is:
Bee Season by Myla Goldberg, because I'm a good speller. Funny nonstory. I almost bought the movie of this on DVD (but was slightly turned off by Richard Gere. I love Juliet Binoche though), then came home and discovered to my astonishment that I own the book. Don't you love that?
Pretties, Uglies, Specials by Scott Westerfeld because I love smart writers and Scott is way fully smart. Martin is going to buy it, so he gets first dibs.
Fire and Hemlock by Diana Wynne Jones, because somehow I have never read a single book by her. How does such a thing happen?
I also have Little Children by Tom Perotta, scored for 50c at the library book sale.
4. Househunting, to buy. Unlikely will result in actual buying. Is soul destroying experience. Went to house yesterday that said 'please leave your shoes at the front door'. Someone should put up a sign saying 'please leave your hearts at the front door.'
5. Found some blogs where knitters were being mean to each other. Knitters. What hope is there? I despair. But then I spose knitters were always inclined to explore the darker quarter of the human heart. Look at Madame Defarge.
Dickens’s knitting imagery also emphasizes an association between vengefulness and fate, which, in Greek mythology, is traditionally linked to knitting or weaving. The Fates, three sisters who control human life, busy themselves with the tasks of weavers or seamstresses: one sister spins the web of life, another measures it, and the last cuts it. Madame Defarge’s knitting thus becomes a symbol of her victims’ fate—death at the hands of a wrathful peasantry. From Spark Notes