In Need of Restraint

All this posturing, this stress, it weighs and weighs and I don't like when this blog assumes these contours, saturated with this flow of time and helpless emoting, floundering actually.

The house issue and the work scale have taken their toll. Hefty wages both.

Taking some need I smoked a cigar and began Alan Moorehead's The White Nile -- what a fascinating book. None of the principals are unknown but the narrative remains compelling all its own.I need to continue to relax and read. The monkey itch of other books is never absent. There is a note after the joint expedition of Burton and Speke where RFB is recovering from malaria and he cools his heels for a few weeks reading french novels. The nerd in me is curious as to what novels, that may not prove that elusive as i may consult the Burton bio I continually neglect to read, but the whining martyr within laments that I don't ever had weeks on end to read and ponder.

I can't say for certain that I'll return to the Cancer Ward, the appeal of the Moorehead is that strong and it, in turn, is already leading to similar searches -- not in Africa, mind you, but then samizdat is showing signs of life and I did buy a few novels to strip the order of that sting of shipping. sigh.