Monday, December 07, 2009

Winter Day, Postbirthday

As I wait for my breakfast barley to cook, I write.  A pile of dirty dishes has somehow already accumulated since I loaded the dishwasher last night, and they are literally staring me in the face.  Okay, I give, the dishes are not literally staring, as the dishes don't have eyes.  It just feels like they do.  Accusatory, glaring eyes.  I read an article the other day in which a woman claimed to have "literally devoured" a great number of books and journal articles, which made her an expert on her topic (herbal fertility aids).  Naturally, I couldn't take anything she wrote seriously after that.  I wonder if I could have simply eaten my grad school materials instead of wasting all that time reading?
I am currently reading a Neil Gaiman novel and enjoying it a lot more than I expected (yes, I do a lot of things for which I have low expectations).  Maybe it's just a reflection on the kinds of books I've been reading this year, but I am really impressed with his writing. Once past the introduction, the writing itself became invisible and there is nothing now but story.  I haven't had this kind of reading experience in a long while. I thought it was because I'm a grownup now and perhaps don't read in the same way I used to.  It didn't occur to me that it could have to do with the writing itself, except in cases of very clumsy or amateurish writing.  So, Mr. Gaiman, I'm impressed, for what that's worth.
Last week I splurged and got a lovely, pungent bunch of dried eucalyptus branches because I love how they make the house smell.  I haven't had them since before I got married. However, when my smelling-impaired husband came home that evening, he sniffed and asked with genuine concern, "What is that? Is that garbage?  Does the trash need taking out?"  Hmpf.
Speaking of smells, I am terrifically disappointed with the Christmas tree we just got over the weekend (I picked it out).  It has almost no smell at all, unless I'm practically roosting in the branches.  The smell is possibly the most important aspect of a Christmas tree, and there are still three whole weeks to go!  I will have to do something drastic, such as clipping some of those raggedy bottom branches off.  Admittedly, it was fun decorating it with Limelet this year, as now he is old enough to hang hooks instead of taking everything off and throwing it.  At least most of th e time.
TheLimey got me a One Touch video capture device for my birthday that works well with the video camera, so I plan to post some clips on Flick'r, including the aforementioned tree decorating. Now, off to finally undergo a bunch of fillings at the dentist.  Bleah.


Fresca said...

I was just browsing around, looking at who else had listed "ginger" as one of there interests (there are 192 of us!), and just wanted to say I had the same experience with a Neil Gaiman novel this fall. I've become (at midlife) easily bored with novels, but when I idly picked up "Anansi Boys" I was caught up in a whoosh, in a way I haven't been in years.
I wonder which novel you were reading.
I tried a couple other things he wrote and wasn't impressed---then was interested to read that he says he was pleased with Anansi --he did what he'd wanted to do (unlike "American Gods".)

Best to you!

Fresca said...

P.S. Eek! I *do* know the difference between "there" and "their."
I wish I could "literally devour" some of my sloppy comments...

liz said...

That's funny! I forgot about the ginger reference. Must check to see if I included cloves.

I'll have to try Anansi Boys. The one I liked actually was American Gods. It's interesting that he was doing something he didn't like there. I have read such mixed reviews of so much of his (written) work that I am curious about it.

(PS: I think we're primed to type certain words that we use frequently even if we know that's not the word we want!)