To Strive

Perhaps the foehn has swept the Ohio Valley as it was 60 today, fifty-three degrees higher than yesterday a.m. Whatever the aura or barometer, I went ahead and finished the book. Bleak.

I am on holiday this week and will be heading to the library sale in the a.m. with hopes for a 2d copy of Rabbit Redux (for the Mrs.) as well as variations on the epistemological: gothic lit from Lewis and Radcliffe as well as titles from Ross MacDonald and Rex Stout.

I am knackered, but will tread another hour with Arthur Conan Doyle, with whom I am criminally removed.