I know the fourth of July has come and gone but, honestly, are fireworks ever a bad thing? Plus, I’m hoping they distract you from the fact that this week my reading is going to be minimal at best. Last week we moved into our new house, which is still unfinished and not a home yet.
I know you stop by here for my opinion on books but today I’m going to give you my one and only piece of non-book of advice: DO NOT EVER, under any circumstances, move into a house you are fully renovating until it’s finished. If it’s just one room or even two, that’s all right. But if you have only one bathroom and a construction crew, no kitchen, and nothing but a basement filled with all of your belongings, don’t do it. It’s not an adventure, it is hell. We don’t have a crew of cretins but the noise, the lack of privacy, and more importantly, living out of boxes and eating nothing but prepared or fast food is not healthy mentally or physically. Seriously, re-establish contact with your college roommate and ask if you can crash at their place for a few
days weeks months.
Let me sum it up for you: I CAN’T FIND MY BOOKS. I’m sorry to be so graphic and shocking but it is that bad. Yes, they are here somewhere but I can’t see them, touch them, or read them. I thought this kind of thing went against the Geneva Convention but apparently not. Help me out, and tell me: What are You Reading? so that I can feel better.
This is the only book I made sure to carry with me in the car when we moved. I know Kent Haruf, whatever he’s writing about, will soothe me. His prose is among the most beautiful I’ve ever read. The only sad part is that he passed away earlier this year so, there will be no more of his tender words after this novel. I almost don’t want to read it…as weird as that sounds.