Greetings from my bed on a Sunday evening. I’ve been here all weekend, tucked in with a stack of books that I’ve been too tired to read. No, it isn’t Covid. It seems to just be a plain old cold. It feels almost nostalgic to just have a head cold, to be a little sick but not worried that the virus is playing Russian Roulette with my long-term health.
I loved the essays back in the day -- and they definitely survived my recent (pretty severe) book cull ... I'll have to go pull out the novels again. I know I read Puttermesser ages ago? Will have to go find it ...
I loved the essays back in the day -- and they definitely survived my recent (pretty severe) book cull ... I'll have to go pull out the novels again. I know I read Puttermesser ages ago? Will have to go find it ...
So I'm going to have to find The Puttermesser Papers now...