Peanut has been reading a lot of books lately. For a while, he was reading a book a day. It started with Willa Cather's My Mortal Enemy, which sort of makes sense, doesn't it? I mean, the book was just sitting there on the table, declaring itself as the bad guy, why wouldn't Peanut read it? But then, it was a Florence travel book, A Drinking Life by Pete Hamill, Alice Munro's Too Much Happiness, James Joyce's Dubliners, and even a second copy of My Mortal Enemy. I'd come home from work to find them on the ground, sometimes open, sometimes closed, always looking worn out.
Interview interlude with David Hasselhoff:
DH: Really? Peanut is reading books?
Me: Oh, did I say "reading"? I meant "eating."
I haven't been posting! I'm in a bit of a funk, partly to do with layoffs in my office, partly to do with loved ones trying to figure out the balance between love and life. But I took a long weekend in Joshua Tree and the loft has had some cosmetic surgery, so I'll post pictures up soon. And, no, none of this has anything to do with writing.