January 9, 2005
what I'm thinking and doing § what I'm listening to § what I'm reading
what I'm writing § retrospective: old journal
Woke up this morning to the hushed world of snow. It's half-melted now, but it's still quiet, chilly. My toes are cold, but that might be because they're naked. I haven't gotten dressed yet and am still in my nightgown. I need a shower. The towels are in the dryer. So I'm waiting. Sometimes I do this. Don't get dressed at all. Waste the day. Accomplish nothing. Sometimes it's just right.
last week's thinking and doing § next week's thinking and doing
No focused listening this week.
last week's listening § next week's listening
Marilynne Robinson's Gilead is so beautiful that it hurt to read. It is hard to describe. It's in the voice of a clergyman/preacher/minister (what word doesn't have weird connotations?) who is writing a letter to his son born very late in his life, basically explaining his life, his family, himself, addressing himself to the boy as an adult. I'm violently allergic to fundamentalist Christianity and loved this book so much because of the character and his vision and the characters he describes and his love for them, and yes also because of his faith, which was lovely. And it's the writing--it's gorgeous and still in a voice appropriate for the character. Highly recommended.
When she was here in November, Christina gave me a copy of Tom Brosnahan's Turkey: Bright Sun, Strong Tea. Brosnahan is a travel writer, author of the Lonely Planet's guide to Turkey and of several other guidebooks to Turkey and other places. Turkey is obviously a place he strongly loves. This book is his account of how he first came ot Turkey as a peace corps volunteer at the end of the 60s and about his several trips and many adventures there. The telling is a litle chaotic and quirky, but so is Turkey in my experience, and this was an enjoyable evocation of it.
Margot Wadley's The Gripping Beast is a mystery set in the Orkneys, which is why I picked it up. An American woman's father who grew up in Orkney has just died, and so she goes to Orkney as a kind of pilgrimage in his honour. On the ferry she meets a Scottish woman and her son, who are visiting relatives in Orkney, and as they get off the ferry, a woman the young boy calls a witch warns the American that there is danger for her here in Orkney. A gentle and entertaining read, which makes interesting use of its setting.
last week's reading § next week's reading
Progressing on the paper revision front.
last week's writing § next week's writing
Still on hiatus.
last week's old journal § next week's old journal
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1925 people have wandered through this week with me