April 20, 2008
Sunday With The New York Times
I have been neglectful in the writing/keeping in touch department. Chalk it up to the winter season in Nederland, which more often than not has the effect of a chilly cloister. I read ferociously between bouts of snow removal and knitted my ass off (my apologies to everyone who has received more than one hat this year), continued to work on the set of short stories I started two years ago and have been learning the entire Tom Petty catalog on guitar. I discovered, pretty late in the game, Ray Lamontagne and have devoured Trouble and Till The Sun Turns Black (which pairs beautifully with Joan Armatrading's 1976 self-titled). The winter weeks slowly burned off and in what seems like a sudden turn, long cracks have emerged in the reservoir's thinning surface and pools of open water are creeping along the edges. It ain't spring yet, I'm not that foolish, but I do finally feel like getting out of the house.
But...maybe not quite yet today. Jim kindly volunteered to get the NY Times this morning and I (and my ink black fingers) have been ensconced in bed ever since. Early spring's bright blue world can wait till the afternoon.
Posted by bethamsel at 10:51 AM