Wandering with my eyes and heart open, searching for pieces to add to my own personal big picture.

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Something Wicked: New Read

Let’s talk about Something Wicked This Way Comes by Ray Bradbury for just a few minutes. Have you read it? Did you see the Disney movie back in the 80’s? I have done neither. In fact, I didn’t even know what the book was about. Why did I get it? It was all part of a meticulous plan!

something wicked
Here he is, in my hot little hands! 😀

Nope! You know me. I saw it at the bookstore, love Ray Bradbury, don’t have that one, and dropped on top of my pile at the bookstore in which I swore I’d only get a cup of coffee and maybe buy ONE book. I wrote about that glorious day where I made a modest attempt to brighten the world a bit.

Sheesh…just realized that was nearly two months ago. Time flies when you’re…which brings me right back around to this beautiful book!

I thought it was high time for a novel, so I grabbed the first one I had sitting on my TBR shelf, noted it down in my reading journal and settled down into my comfy spot on the couch.

Two hours later, chills running up and down my spine, and warily looking out the window into the dark wondering if a creepy carnival might set up in my town while I sleep, I closed the book and made a few notes.

“I can see the Music Man movie while I read this. Has that feel. Trouble with a capital T!”

And “Bradbury…the way he writes I fall into the story and can’t find my way out. How does he do that!?”

The next day, after reading for a straight hour and half, I got a text. “Good morning! Come have coffee with me!” Virtually. We’re online friends, states apart.

I reply, “Can’t! I’m in love with a book and I cannot leave it now!”

“Who?”

“Bradbury.”

“Shit. I can’t compete with that.”

“Writers! Put your pens down, this man cannot be beat!”

“Someone has a crush!”

“Shut up. I’m busy!”

I didn’t think I had a favorite author, but here we are. And you know what’s strange? I never was a big fan of Fahrenheit 451. Anyway…

Something Wicked This Way Comes! What is it about? Facing time and death, something I could really use wise words about right now, creative and poetic ones. I love the Stoics and the philosophy does speak to my mind, but sometimes you just need some beauty. You know?

Here’s what I mean.

“…the carnival feels ulcerated egos miles off and lopes to toast its hands at that ache. It smells boys ulcerating to be men, paining like great unwise wisdom teeth, twenty thousand miles away, summer abed in winter’s night. It feels the aggravation of middle-aged men like myself, who gibber after long-lost August afternoons to no avail. Need, want, desire, we burn those in our fluids, oxidize those in our souls, which jet streams out lips, nostrils, eyes, ears, broadcasts from antennae-fingers, long and short wave, God only knows, but the freak-masters perceive Itches and come crab-clustering to Scratch. It’s traveled a long way on an easy map, with people handy by every crossroad to lend it lustful pints of agony to power it on. So maybe the carnival survives, living off the poison of the sins we do to each other, and the ferment of our most terrible regrets.”

Did you get that? Did you look back and realize what poison we fill ourselves with, regretting the past, worrying about the unknowable future? We sit and waste what little time we have with that crap, all the while calling to ourselves more misery to lament tomorrow.

We only have today. This moment right now. Live it just the way it is.

And by that I don’t mean run out and get crazy, spend all your money, or leave what you have in the lurch. I mean actually be aware of the glory of this day.

There are times, too many, when I get angsty about time. I’m wasting it sitting reading this book, doing the dishes again, or laying on the couch watching a movie. Am I? Only if I’m grumbling about what I could be doing instead, pissing and moaning that life could be different. Instead, I take a deep breath and look around me. I have the money and leisure to read. I have made meals and shared them. I am with a person I love enjoying a program we love, making memories.

Anything you are doing is not time wasted if you love what you’re doing. My son told me that.

But what if you don’t? Then do something right now to love it or change it. Make that date, buy that thing, go to that place. Make a plan and do it because tomorrow may never come. It’s cliché, yes, but it’s true.

One more thing before I go. Why do we fear death so much? Everything on this planet dies. It is inescapable.

“Death doesn’t exist. It never did, it never will. But we’ve drawn so many pictures of it, so many years, trying to pin it down, comprehend it, we’ve got to thinking of it as an entity, strangely alive and greedy. All it is, however, is a stopped watch, a loss, an end, a darkness. Nothing. And the carnival wisely knows we’re more afraid of Nothing than we are of Something. You can fight Something. But…Nothing? Where do you hit it?”

The Stoics say, “Memento Mori.” Remember death. And it took me a long time to understand why. Humans try to forget there is an end to everything. We’ve built up whole words to explain away and hide the fact that this consciousness ends, as far as we know. How do you fight that Nothing? You can’t and that’s what’s so scary.

Or is it? The older I get, the more I start to see that it’s not death I fear, but a life not lived. When we come up to the end, we look back and realize how much we didn’t get to do. Reminds me of my dad’s story of dragging me out of Disneyland when I was little.

It’s the ultimate acceptance of something we cannot change. The end comes and we must face it. Time does not speed up or go in reverse, not without dire consequences.

If I could get across one thing to people younger than me, to everyone really, it would be to live. Do what you want to do, enjoy the moment you are in, because tomorrow we die. Sounds depressing? I don’t think so. It’s permission to live without regrets.

Oh…and let others do the same. They are not living their life for you and to make them do so would be a tragedy for you both.

Early Saturday Morning Post

It’s very early on Saturday morning, and I’m so tired. It hasn’t been an extraordinarily busy week, but my body and mind seem to think so. Why am I here, writing to you THIS early? Why don’t I sleep in? Because I’m heading out for a mini-vacation today and I don’t want to break my daily writing streak!

saturday morning

Like said in an earlier post, I finished reading The Mayfair Bookshop by Eliza Knight and I left it every bit as in love as when I started it. So much was beautiful there, I wanted to jump into it and disappear. So many gorgeous characters, so many books written and read.

It inspired me to go looking for a book club again and this time I found one AND it’s local. They meet next month; I’ve bought the book and you know I’ll read it. But will I bring myself to attend? I want to, but I can’t say for sure. I need an emotional support human, but I think I’ll be facing this scary thing alone…maybe I could bring one of my personalities!

I was going to go back and quote this book a few more times, but the first one I saw this morning when I flipped through the book was perfect, so I’m leaving you with it.

“I stopped writing, so much more on my mind, and yet so little to say.” Yeah…I’ve felt that way all week and I’m not sure what I’ll do with it. I need more quiet space to think.

Beautifully Relatable Characters

The Mayfair Bookstore by Eliza Knight has stolen my heart and I don’t want it back. Both main characters are so beautifully relatable.

Nancy, as a writer…

“If I married him, I could go about town in the latest fashions, ride in fancy cars and dine nightly at the Ritz, but I’d much rather have my mind tingle in delight of someone with a modicum of intelligence than a bursting purse.”

…sigh…yes, me too. I still long for more (of them, not more intelligent) intelligent people to talk with. I’m always searching for new acquaintances. It’s a big part of why I blog about books. It’s a cry in the dark for conversation.

“So often in our family I felt like the odd woman out. A voice of reason? I’m not so certain, but at the least, a varying voice on absolutes.”

I’ve always felt like an outsider. I suppose everyone does.

“So often I felt like an imposter in my own skin, and here was a reminder that I was not simply a woman playing at being a writer, I was a writer. A published author. Warmth bloomed in my chest, a sense of belonging, of hope.”

How wonderful would that be to be published? When someone reads my work, likes or comments, I feel so much of that belonging, that hope. My words in a bottle have reached another human!

And then Lucy, as bibliophile…

“It was a dream come true every day to help shape the home libraries of private collectors, picking out amazing books that some clients would appreciate, covet even, while visitors to their homes might only gaze admiringly at the spines and wonder what they cost. Rare books to a curator or collector were a gem, but to an outsider, they were a status symbol of the elite.”

This one has me stumped. Why would you have someone else collect books for you? My collection is not of prized or rare editions, it’s all books I’ve read and annotated myself over the years. If someone’s eyes glance over my shelves, I’m thrilled. Will they find something they have read? Will they want to talk about it? Did they see something that interests them? They are welcome to borrow it! What do my shelves say about me?

“Rich history hung like magic in the London air and whispered to her like faint conversations from the past, redolent of chic perfume and pipe smoke.”

I just loved the sound of this sentence in my head. I’ve always been too timid for travel overseas. Planes are just not my thing. But maybe someday.

“…Lucy admitted a deep attachment to both Frankenstein and Pride and Prejudice. Oliver remarked, with a raised eyebrow, how summarily different they were. But Lucy argued not at all, because both inflicted a deep emotional toll upon their readers.”

I’d agree with the deep emotional toll from reading Frankenstein. That poor, poor creature. Created and thrust into the world, his own creator horrified by his existence. That reminds me…I should read that again!

“I thought about being a writer, or maybe an editor at a publishing house. But in the end, I realized my passion is all about reading and enjoying books as opposed to writing or fixing them.”

My heart resonated with this. Sure, I dabble here and there. I’d love to write more articles, possibly even submit them for publication, but really, I’m a reader. I write only to pass on the information and joy I find in the books I read, to connect with another person over our common interests or discuss differences in opinion, hear other people’s points of view. If I could do this in person, over coffee (with a touch of whiskey in it), I’d be in heaven.

I’m not quite finished reading this delicious book, so you’ll hear more from me about it tomorrow!

The Mayfair Bookshop: New Read

Four non-fiction books in a row means it’s high time for a novel, especially since I finished my previous read the night before a holiday. And this time it’s The Mayfair Bookshop by Eliza Knight! Why did I choose this book? Well…that’s a bit of a story.

My TBR shelf has turned into shelves, and you know that’s not allowed. Generally, I keep my TBR to one shelf, but with the windfall I accumulated a couple years ago due to a friend’s sudden move out of state (and she had to leave her books behind), I’ve allowed myself more than one shelf for a while now. I swore (a not so solemn oath) that I would read the books I had before I bought any more, but alas, here we are.

In my defense I have slowed down and this month promised I would refrain from purchasing the darlings and make an attempt at whittling down the pile, and then we went to Costco.

Like I’ve said before, I don’t usually buy any books there, but I do almost always peruse the stacks, just in case. There are sometimes fun novels there that beg to be taken home. Honest, they beg. I hear them.

This time as we moved toward the aisle where my precious coffee is located, my husband glanced down at the cart and looked back at me. “What’s this?” I smiled. “A moral imperative.” He laughed. “Why these ones?” I point to the words on the covers, “bookshop” and “library.” “Ah, I see.” I cannot resist a book about books and readers. They’re like friends coming to visit. He knows this.

At the checkout, I had to rescue them before he threw them on the conveyor belt right along with the meat and frozen vegetables. Seriously.

I posted on Instagram that I had begun a beautiful Easter Sunday (although I had forgotten it was Easter until I opened Facebook) with this fun book and several extra cups of coffee. That post led me to receive a comment from the author herself, which thrilled me to the bone.

I read for three hours yesterday morning, and my first thoughts were, “Charming.” and “I’m in love with these characters.” Last night, when I couldn’t fall asleep, I thought I’d get up and read a bit and see if that helped. I sat down, opened the book, “No, wait. I need a cup of tea.” Put the book aside to start the kettle, went back to get the book and read while my tea steeped.

I imagined the characters becoming exasperated with my indecision. “Is she going to read, or not?” I’m sure they are all in there waiting, their action paused, for me to pick the book back up. I wonder what they do while they wait.

This morning, I’m already halfway through this delicious book and I’ll probably read a bit more before I start the rest of my day. You know, the part of the day I spend off the couch, outside a book. The boring part!

I’m sorry Ms. Knight, but I do have one complaint. I feel compelled to add all the books you mention in your story to my TBR list. And call me ignorant, but I didn’t realize this was historical fiction when I picked it up, and that Nancy Mitford was a real author. So, thanks for that!

That’s sarcasm in case it didn’t come across that way. Almost every book I read adds two or three more books to my list. Reading is never-ending entertainment and information accumulation. And a TBR list is always one step forward and two steps back, or three, or four. It’s beautiful.

I have many Costco adventures. Click over to Shopping Cart Antics for more!

Want to read more of my thoughts on this gem of a book? Try Beautifully Relatable Characters.

The Empathy Box

What’s on the menu today? Something delicious. I finished reading Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? By Philip K. Dick this morning and I am aching to tell you about it. But how do I do so without spoiling it for you? Hmm…

I’ll start by saying that I loved this book more than I thought I would. I LIKE science-fiction, but I’m not a die-hard fan (not the movie, the adjective). I am starting to get a good picture of what kind of sci-fi I enjoy most, the kind that deals with people and what they will do with technology in the future. Sci-fi that is more focused on technological advances, getting deep into what things will look like and how it might change how we live, isn’t my thing. I get bored.

In fact, I get bored with technology today. People and how they interact is where my interest lies. I’m starting to see a pattern in my reading…cool.

And that’s exactly what this book was about, what it means to be human. That doesn’t change over time, not really. What we define as human may change. I mean, we used to think anyone that lives outside our borders, people that don’t live the way we do or look like us, weren’t actually human in the same way were. That has evolved quite a bit and continues to do so.

The way we treat animals has also changed and will probably keep changing. But what about our machines? Interesting idea, isn’t it?

In the interest of not giving too much of the story away, I’ll leave you with one quote and a few thoughts about it as it relates to today.

This book was set in 2021 and written in 1968, and the internet and social media were not invented yet. It’s always fun to read science fiction set in our own time. Where is my flying car?!

“But an empathy box,” he said, stammering in his excitement, “is the most personal possession you have! It’s an extension of your body; it’s the way you touch other humans, it’s the way you stop being alone.”

And then again later in the book, “It would be immoral not to fuse with Mercer in gratitude,” Iran said. “I had hold of the handles of the box today and it overcame my depression a little – just a little, not like this.” “You hardly ever undergo fusion; I want you to transmit the mood you’re in now to everyone else; you owe it to them. It would be immoral to keep it to ourselves.”

The empathy box sounds like social media, doesn’t it? When you put your hands on it, you’re connected to all other humans. You feel what they feel and a sense of connection with others lifts your spirits, supposedly. In the story, it’s not always true, but they think it is and keep going back to it. It’s a religious experience. What’s really going on, I’m not sure. It’s part of the story that left me a little confused.

But relating it to now and my own life, I see social media in the same way. I’m in a bad mood, so I share my sadness, hoping another human will reach out and soothe my heart. Something wonderful has happened, so I share that in the hopes that someone out there will be lifted in my joy. See? We’re all connected. Isn’t this great?

Sometimes. My mind keeps going back to something that happened earlier this week. I went hiking with my sons and it was outrageously fun and the scenery…wow. I never imagined that I lived in such a beautiful place. We came around a corner and the valley below, the cliffs ahead, the clouds hiding the tops of the mountains spread out before us. I couldn’t believe my eyes.

And I didn’t stop, breathless, and stare. I didn’t take it all in and feel it. I took a picture and moved on. I had to have that to share with those who can’t make this trip, those that can’t walk or climb, those that are busy with their own lives in their own towns.

Empathy. See? I want to share my joy so that others may have some. Connection, with practical strangers. But at what cost?

Taking a picture to remember the spot isn’t the problem, neither is wanting to put it in my virtual scrapbook. It’s that I was more preoccupied with making sure I had something to share with others than taking the whole moment in and actually being there.

Something needs to change. The empathy box isn’t making me feel connected, it’s taking me away from now. I’m missing the whole thing and I have been for a long time.

I took it, I may as well share it, right?
Near Lake Jennings in San Diego, California.

You guys! Guess what! It’s April and that means I have written and posted something every day for three whole months! Milestones, man…they’re important!

Where am I going? I have no idea, but I’m enjoying the ride. Are you?

A Humanity Test: One of Us

A “humanity” test? There’s something to think about. What makes something “human?” Is it empathy or something else?

In 2022, most of us have thought about androids, machines that look and act as humans, maybe not in our daily lives, but frequently. Some of our favorite characters are androids. Data, in Star Trek Next Generation, for instance. We’ve explored his humanity quite a bit. I know there are many others, but this one is the one I like best.

Could you kill Data? Could you say he’s not human, or even really alive, and end him? Turn him off? I couldn’t. I have a hard time killing off anything on purpose, though, even plants I don’t want in my yard. I’m an odd ball. I know that. Weeds are different though. They are in my way and causing problems, so out they go. No problem.

This book was written in 1968, and the idea of androids was fairly new. Machines, created to serve mankind (not for dinner, DAD!) in much the same way as our dishwasher or vehicle, become sentient. They want their own lives, apart from serving humans, and escape back to earth, where humans can’t survive due to radiation.

The whole story (so far, I’m only halfway through) is about that. My questions: Why are we hunting them? What did they do? Humans can’t live on earth long anyway, why not let them have it? How can you kill something that looks at you and says, “Please don’t!”

Oh, yes. If we’re protecting ourselves, we can justify it. We can’t have a “species” living out its life nearby. What if they decide to invade us, take our things, rule over us? Does this sound familiar?

“What if machines became sentient?” is a great question. But what if another animal on our planet could communicate in a way that led us to believe it was also sentient? And then, my rolls around to, “What if people in other countries, other races, on other continents…?”

Yeah, get it? Humanity rules over other species, and our own. It is our nature to make our way, stake a claim, and defend it. All animals do. We just do it in more creative and efficient ways. The only way to stop us from destroying each other is for humanity to recognize others as our own.

I can’t say much more about the story (don’t want to ruin it) but now I’m thinking…

What if we created a test to show us whether or not another being is “one of us?”

Go back to my first post about Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? by Philip K. Dick for more.

The Anxious Hearts Guide: New Read

It’s a 2-for-1 special today! I’m starting two books at the same time!

The first is a non-fiction self-help book that I couldn’t wait to start reading but didn’t want to dive into first thing in the morning. I’m saving that one to read a little at a time over my afternoon coffee. I decided to start a second book to wake up with, a sci-fi one that I picked up at the bookstore the day before.

I apologize, but there won’t be a wrap up post about The Lost Apothecary by Sarah Penner because it simply did not grab my attention. Not my cup of tea, I suppose. Maybe I’m meant for something stronger than tea?

I did finish reading the book. It was a mystery of sorts, and I wanted to see what the twist was, but I was put off by the “men are bad/women are good” dichotomy. I didn’t connect with any of the characters or the situation. It wasn’t a bad book. It just wasn’t for me.

What’s next? Where should I start? Let’s start with the “self-help” one!

the anxious hearts guide

I found The Anxious Hearts Guide: Rising Above Anxious Attachment by Rikki Cloos on Instagram. I follow the author’s page and find such great advice about maintaining relationships, that I felt like I wanted, no, NEEDED to hear more of her words. I downloaded it to my Kindle and immediately started reading.

Click over and read some of her posts, you will not regret it! Don’t have Instagram? Here’s her site. She has some very helpful advice for those of us who have been labeled as “needy” and “clingy,” the ones that keep wondering where all the close connections went, and why everyone keeps looking at us like we’re crazy.

I’m a few pages into the Kindle version of the book right now. THIS is going to be life changing.

The other book I started today was Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? By Philip K. Dick. I’ve been hearing about this sci-fi classic for years and since I lost all control and bought it on my bookstore adventure, I figured it should be the first thing I read from that haul.

Side note: I didn’t see the face in the cover of the book until I took a picture of it, and it scared me. Seriously. It’s starting to rain, so I didn’t want to take the book outside to show you, so I put it on the top of the pile of books on my desk and snapped a picture. The preview in the bottom left corner of my phone screen showed a shadowy face and I about jumped out of my skin. Now I can’t stop seeing it and it’s creepy.

It was written in 1968 and is the book the Blade Runner movies were based on. I know I loved those movies. When the new one came out, we were sure to go back and watch the original before we saw the new one. They were both awesome…and that’s all I remember. I just watched the trailers to refresh my memory, and they are only vaguely familiar, the old one more than the new one.

My memory. Man, it’s so frustrating. But now that I think about it, I tend to knit while I watch tv. Some things I’m just not that interested in, but my husband wants to watch, so I knit. And lately, I can’t seem to sit still and focus on a tv show or movie, so I knit. Maybe that’s not a good idea? I’m not really watching and comprehending what’s happening. I’m losing the story but gaining socks. It’s a tradeoff.

I’ve been watching episodes of Electric Dreams on Amazon Prime, also based on Philip K. Dick’s stories, and loving them, so I’m excited to spend some time in this book!

The Lost Apothecary: New Read

I picked up The Lost Apothecary by Sarah Penner at Costco a few weeks ago while I was shopping with my mom. I almost always browse my way through the book pile at Costco, but I rarely buy anything. When I do, it’s fiction.

the lost apothecary
I don’t always buy books at Costco, but when I do, they are novels.

This novel is outside what I usually read, so why did I pick it up? What caught my eye?

Re-reading the back of the book, I see words that usually trigger my book hoarding instincts.

“Eighteenth century London,” “mysterious owner,” “poisons to use against the oppressive men in their lives.” That last one started to lose me. Is this going to be a book about how mean men are and how women have life so much harder? Hmm…

Then, “explosive history” and “transcends the barrier of time,” sucked me back in. I dropped it in my basket along with Erik Larson’s new book, The Splendid and The Vile.

I’m usually more interested in non-fiction and classic literature than modern novels, but every once in a while something new catches my eye and I can’t resist. Why don’t I do it more often? Because there’s a 50/50 chance that it will be disappointing and then I feel like I’ve wasted my precious time and money.

Older novels have been filtered through time and become classics. They are more reliable. Modern novels seem too easy to read, the plots are simple, and the themes irritate me. But not always. The ones I’ve loved are filled with highlights and notes, and they’re usually about magical libraries and rethinking a life’s direction or priorities.

After one day of reading, I’m already halfway through The Lost Apothecary. The cover says “surprises right up to the final paragraph” but I haven’t seen any surprises yet. I like the story. I’m curious how the chapters will connect, what Caroline will find, but so far, I don’t feel emotionally connected to how any of the characters feel. Maybe we’re just too different?

A New Classic Set in India

Let’s talk about A Rising Man by Abir Mukherjee for a moment, shall we?

Like I said in my first post about the book, I’m not a huge murder mystery fan, but I can appreciate the style from time to time. This one had all the forms of an old classic. The dark past of our hero, the beautiful woman, the lovable sidekick, the murder, etc. It wasn’t all that surprising and if that were all there were, I probably wouldn’t have picked it up to read.

Here’s a great line for my reader friends.

“It was the sort of room favored by a certain type of self-made man: oak paneled with shelves full of books that looked like they’d never been read.”

Bad guy. Clearly. I mean…never read books? You can’t trust people like that.

The real interest in the book for me was the setting and the historical background.

Set in Calcutta in 1919, at the beginning of India’s fight for “home rule,” I learned much about a culture and time I still know very little about. I read a Gandhi’s autobiography, The Story of My Experiments With Truth years ago, but that’s as far as I’ve been able to get investigating the era.

The book shed some light on something that has come up here at home. My husband’s work puts him in daily contact with several different cultures around the world, including India. He’s the manager of one of those call centers, and I’ve heard him talking with them often. The workers are so ingratiating that you at first think, “Wow, they are so polite and hard-working.” And that is true, he loves working with them. They’re kind, helpful, and eager to work hard. But it can be very difficult to know what they really want or can do. It feels like they are so busy trying to please you and keep their jobs, that you can’t get to the bottom of some kinds of problems. The cultural divide is too wide.

Reading this book made me see where some of that comes from, and it did not make me feel good. I want to know more about the colonization of India, their independence, and what’s going on today. Every time I see a movie like The White Tiger (which I just found out was based on a book), or read a book about India, I find myself wanting to know more. And today, I’m wondering where to go next. Have any suggestions?

A Rising Man: New Read

Next on my reading list is…drum roll… A Rising Man by Abir Mukherjee

a rising man

Feeling punk on a Saturday morning is no bueno, my friends, but at least I have a new book to start reading! The windows are open. The sun is shining. The wind isn’t blowing! Yay!

I mentioned this book in my post Legacy, Science, and Coincidence: A Podcast Roundup. After hearing the author interviewed by readers on the BBC Bookclub, I knew I wanted to give it a try. It’s murder mystery (not my fave) set in Calcutta 1919 (a place I know little to nothing about).

I wasn’t much interested until I heard a reader say that the book gave so much information about the time and place, that it felt more like historical fiction than a murder mystery. Then another reader, who grew up in the area, said that the scenes were so accurate to her memory of the place, that she felt like she had gone back there.

“The Rowland Acts. They’d been passed the previous month and allowed us to lock up anyone we suspected of terrorism or revolutionary activities. We could hold them for up to two years without trial. From a copper’s perspective, it made things nice and simple. The Indian’s, of course, had reacted with fury, and I can’t say I blamed them.”

That sounds awfully familiar.

I’m about 80 pages in this morning and enjoying it. It feels a bit like Sherlock Holmes, but I’m enjoying the context of the mystery. There’s a lot about British colonization, home rule, and so called “terrorism” so far. And I’m getting know the main character’s background.

I’ll be here with a cup of tea and A Rising Man all day long. Feeling punk is the perfect excuse not to work in the yard on a day like this!

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