1 February 2013 § 7 Comments
MathsBio complained at the lack of blogging recently. We were on Skype, or at least Rapunzel and I were Skype and MathsBio stood beside Rapunzel’s wardrobe. I’ve been writing, obsessively, just not blog stuff.
Rapunzel has a blog, but MathsBio claims it mentally damaged him so I’ll refrain from sharing it.
We talked about books. Rapunzel said she was reading The Magic Mountain by Thomas Mann. I laughed. I’ve read the first page. It took me little under an hour. I proudly showed the copy of Bertrand Russell’s Power, lent to me a while ago by MathsBio. I’ve got three chapters left! I asked Rapunzel whether Catch 22 had been side-lined. It’s a book I (and The Noph) detest but she claims to love. It’s MathsBio’s mum’s favourite book. Rapunzel muttered something about still loving it, even if she must have been reading it for two years. I’d make a comment but since I’ve had Power on the go for a similar duration… I do rather like Russell, even it I read him slow.
“Is that an Oxford Classic” MathsBio asked eyeing up the heap of books on my bed.
“Two.” I replied. Herodotus’ The Histories was recommended by The TV Star and bought for me by the Noph. It’s a surprisingly easy to read, it’s just difficult to find a convenient place to pause. MathsBio related it to a book he’s been reading that sounded foreign and complex and apparently includes paragraphs 4 pages long.
The other Oxford Classic is Virginia Woolfe’s A Room of One’s Own and Three Guineas. It was a present from The Mother, for my birthday, but she forgot to give me on the day.
I showed Rapunzel her little impulse buy present and a picture I’d painted recently using the new Christmas gift watercolour paper from the Tall Aunty and family.
Tall Aunty sent me a beautiful card the other day. It made me smile.