Meandering

A long time ago, seemingly a lifetime ago, I longed for the time to do little but read books.  At the time I was a single mother, working a couple of jobs, cashing my paycheck from the motorcycle dealership I worked for, putting the money in little envelopes labeled "Rent" and "Food" and "Gas" and any other expenses I had to budget for.  By the time I got home from work, made dinner, made sure the kids were doing their homework, got them ready for bed and into bed, I was too tired to read.  I'm not telling you this for any other reason but to illustrate my lack of book time.  I didn't read a lot in those days, but I thought about it.  A lot.

I fantasized about contracting some sort of disease, nothing life threatening but something that would require me to go somewhere nice and quiet, with trees and green grassy fields, where I would be required to do nothing but rest.  And in resting, do nothing more strenuous than turn the pages of a book.  There I could read and read and read for hours, someone else making my simple meals, bringing me cold lemonade, telling me to relax.  It was a lame fantasy, I admit, but one born out of the need for the time and energy to do nothing but read.

"Be careful what you wish for......"   Now I have a ton of time and god knows I am reading.  Hours of reading,  
dozens of books.  Some good, some excellent, some just 'passing the time' books.  But reading, yes.  And you know what?  I am almost getting tired of it and it has been less than two weeks!   What a shock this is to me!  Me, who loves to read, is almost tired of reading.  But not quite. 

A Texan loaned me a Stephen King book, an author I do not normally read, but it was over 1000 pages long and I thought "oh, don't be such a literary snob, just give it a try" and so I did.  I must admit, the first half of the book, which took me two days to devour, was rather intriguing, fun, creepy and entertaining.  The second half is starting to get bogged down in stupid plot twists (an oxymoron in a S. King book) but I will continue on anyway because now I need to know what happens.  At the same time, I am reading a book called "Running the Books" by Avi Steinberg, who is a young guy who gets a job running the library in a really tough prison outside of Boston.  I am also reading a Dennis LeHane novel called "Moonlight Mile" about a private investigator looking into nasty stuff.  LeHane is a good writer, it's a quick read.  (He has written several books that were made into movies, most notably "Mystic River" and "Gone, Baby, Gone" and if you haven't seen that movie, you are missing out.)  I am also, at the same time, working on the NY Times Sunday crossword puzzle. 

There will be book reviews posted of these in the next few days.

And the heat continues.  100 degrees today, forecast is for more triple digits for the next ten days and we haven't even hit the real heat of July.  The humidity is creeping up as well, especially high in the early morning when we go for our long walk.  I read today why we feel hotter in humid weather:  in hot weather a person perspires.  In a dry climate that perspiration on the skin helps cool us so we feel less  hot.  In humid weather that perspiration doesn't evaporate from our skin because there is already too much moisture in the air, so our sweating is less effective. It also makes the blood near our skin warmer and thus makes us more lethargic, tired, and basically useless.  (I speak for myself here, of course.)

That's enough for now. I do have some things to say about the bizarre and sometimes misguided concept of Dog Parks, which I didn't recognize until this morning.  I will fill you in on that a bit later.  It is after 6:00 pm here, definitely time for my daily dose of Vitamin C by way of lime juice, administered with a healthy shot (or two) of germ killing tequila with a little simple syrup mixed in just to make the medicine more palatable.  In other words, a tasty margarita is on my horizon. 

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