Today

Another sound night of holiday, a brisk chilly slumber countered with the drone at eight-thirty of my brother in-law's labor. I was pleased with the Nobel selection though admit a total ignorance. The public library, imagine my surprise, has a copy of one of his novels. Once the window artisans arrive I may walk down there and investigate.

I read 100 pages of End of The Affair last night. Having seen the film, I am afraid that much of bristle and chafe will arrive without surprise. Over the last six years or so I have been amazed as to how Greene's stock keeps rising in my estimation as opposed to Waugh and Orwell. Perhaps I should seize upon Henry Green for a spell?