Sunday 22 March 2009

Quote from a book review

"That manipulation by the solitary writer of the solitary reader is the secret, erotic space of reading. It works very rarely, but when it does, centuries don't matter, nor the actuality of the writer's life."

What an incredibly well-put point!

Rest of this review here.

Seasons

Spring has sprung.
Daffodils along all the roadsides. And leaf buds, light green and maroon and glossy. And birds. Bursting into random staccato song all through the night and then exploding into symphony around dawn. Jewel colours strewn all over the grass - blue, yellow, pink, emerald. And sunlight roaring through the trees, furiously waking up the sleeping earth.
There seems to be no excuse anymore to not just throw away my winter coat. Though doing so now would mean I enjoy the sunshine from behind bleary eyes and a hankerchief, battling a cold. Not nice.
The house needs a bit of spring cleaning. So tomorrow we take advantage of the fact that it'll be drizzling, and go to skip with everything that needs to be chucked. Such a civilised system, the skip. Everything that can be recycled, is (and if I'm wrong on that, please don't tell me!!) So much nicer than throwing unwanted furniture into a garbage tip on the street - like one would, I suppose, back home.

All in all, this is get out and walk around all day weather.
And this morning, the Man and I did just that.
*happy sigh. Thank you, Lord, for the end of that ghastly winter.