Maybe the whole stay-home-and-look-at-the-people-you-love movement will turn out to be a blessing. I’m looking at things a lot differently, including yelling (happily) at my neighbors from a distance–such nice people and we’re all looking out for each other–and starting to relax into spring. Silver linings, Argh People.
. If there was ever a good time for escapist reading, it’s now. I’m finally getting to books that were recommended here, and my new fave is Red, White, and Royal Blue, a terrific romcom by Casey McQuiston, funny, fast-moving, and emotionally true. You should read it.
Enough about me. What have you read this week that was fun?
. Welp, here we all are with time at home to craft and rehab and cook and panic. How long are we going to have this opportunity to cocoon? From what I’ve read, it’s anywhere from two weeks (those people are delusional) to eighteen months (those people do not understand people). In the US, the most common estimates I’ve seen are “end of the summer” and “nobody knows.” So the first thing most of us are probably working on is establishing the new normal. Upside: working in pjs and sleeping later. Downside: IF I DON’T GET OUT OF THIS HOUSE I’M GONNA DIE. Actually, if you do get out of the house, you might . . . never mind.
So what did you work on this week? Besides your new normal and your nerves, although feel free to talk about those, too. We’re all in this together, Argh People. Except, you know, apart.
I defer to Jane and all the other gardeners here when it comes to planting–everything I put in the ground dies and let’s not talk about me and house plants–but when it comes to sitting outside, I am a champ. I live high on a hill over a lake that used to be a river (long story) and while I let my land go to hell for the past three years, I am now starting to take at least my side yard back. I can drag my lawn furniture over to the fence and sit there and crochet while watching the river/lake wander past below, and it’s so beautiful and peaceful. It’s too bright to work on anything with a screen out there, which is good because I spend too much time looking into screens already. I don’t even feel that bad about the overgrown yard: it’s good for nature. So little by little, I am settling into spring and the paradise I live in. It’s good to sit in the yard.
It’s Butterfly Day and also Moth-er Day (for moths, not mothers), and of course Pi Day, but let’s face it: It’s CoronaVirus Spring. I was hoping there’d be something in the list of days that would be ironic given the virus, but I think after three years of Trump, irony is dead. So float like a butterfly, sink into your woolies like a moth, and read like you’re quarantined, it’s that kind of daymonth year.
Our own Nancy Yeager has a new book out, Four Corners of Heaven, part of her Harrow’s Finest Five series, stories about old schoolmates and their search for their happily-ever-afters, encountering smart women, steamy passions, and the occasional scandal.
In Four Corners of Heaven, two dedicated scientists pursue their place in history and learn that love confounds logic every time. But is it enough to keep them together when their futures fall apart?
Last night I wrote the first paragraph of a book I hadn’t started yet, Stealing Nadine. It was like the Lily book, all of sudden I saw it. So I think I’ll be rereading Faking It (Nadine’s debut) once Nita has gone to NYC.
In other news, I’m calling on all Arghers to self-isolate with books and chocolate. No, don’t argue with me, Mom knows best.
So what are you reading until the Apocalypse? (I ask because Tom Hanks has the virus. If God is turning on Hanks, we’re all toast.)
I’ve lost track of the days. Yesterday, I was trying to remember if it was Sunday or Monday. Real shock when I checked the top of my computer screen and saw “Tuesday.” But I’m cleaning up the yard so the dogs and I can sit out there–it was GORGEOUS yesterday–and cleaning up the kitchen so I can cook and cleaning up Nita so I can get her out of the house, so this week, I am cleaning. Again.
Sometimes I think about some of the bad reviews I’ve gotten on Amazon, and wonder why people picked up the book in the first place. My fave may always be “Well, it’s not Shakespeare” (when did I say, “Buy this book, it’s Elizabethan drama”?) but there will be a new you’ve-got-to-be-kidding-me comment along at any moment. That’s why I love Amber Share’s bad-reviews-of-national-parks posters, all taken from actual reviews of parks and which all sound like something Trump would have said. Continue reading →