Seasonal Bliss

Back in his bachelor days, my best friend Joel once considered approaching a daunting female. I told the good doctor that her husband was crazy , perhaps he should reconsider. Joel retorted that chap likely wasn't sufficiently crazy to drive to New York after becoming aware of the deed. Nothing ever happened and his thesis was left untested, thank God.

I find myself similarly bent today, ecstatic about the weather, singing along with Old 97s while driving back from Louisville and essentially grinning like the proverbial nosher.

Yesterday afternoon I couldn't find our Sigur Ros cd. The arid state of samizdat needed an injection. I though supplying a cache of annotations for House of Meetings would suffice. Consequently I reread all 65 pages up to the point of my previous pause. I've had to revise my opinion; this is a remarkable novel. perhaps it isn't as strong as other Marty matters, but it is quite a voyage.