I find it very odd that I am doing this. But heck, everyone else seems to be publishing the minutiae of their lives on line so why not? . I kept a diary from ages 9 to about 35 ( stopped, oddly enough, when I had kids) and I was pretty compulsive about it so it's only natural that I have a blog. It just seems so pretentious. "Hey, read my blog!" Huh. I am too old to have a blog, aren't I?
Ok, so when one has a blog what does one do with it? My life is currently fairly boring so no one is gonna want to hear about that. I read a lot. I could write about books. I watch far too much TV- could write about that-I have amazing adult children who probably have their own blogs somewhere that they probably don't want me to read ( and I can't say that I blame them), perhaps I should just dive in. Planning has never been one of my favorite activities.
Here goes. Yesterday a friend gave me a really fun novel called The Dogs Of Babel. I read it in one sitting. It was delightful . My first impression was that it was a bit cloying but it took some unexpected turns and surprised me once or twice . I also had some reservations about the author's tendency to romanticize mental illness, but then I got to the page where she described what it is like to get hit with Depression and I found myself saying " yup, that's it, all right". Anyhow, I could write more about Depression and my struggles with same but it's a very nice day out so I am just going to recommend this book, which is marginally about Depression, but more about dogs and mystery and love and masks . The author's name is Carolyn Parkhurst. For all I know this is one of those books that everyone knows about because Oprah or someone similar promoted it, but I am kinda bad about keeping up with such things, so I had not heard of it until yesterday when I sat down and read it. And I am glad I did.
The day before yesterday I finished the astounding Richard Powers' The Goldbug Variations and now I need to put it aside for at least a week before I pick it up and start it all over again. I love this guy. At times I felt like he must have eavesdropped on some very twisted conversations about music and science and weird stuff in general that I had with some delightfully twisted people in the past. I am not sure I understood it all ( and I am certain that I didn't understand what I was talking about in those conversations either) but I sure did love it.
That will do for now, right? My dogs need walking and the kitchen needs cleaning. And tomorrow I need to go and be useful for the Obama campaign at some ungodly hour of the morning.
