I am ... incredibly happy for Gillian!
1. Replacements
2. The Pineapple Thief
3. Opeth
4. The National
5. The Killers
Usually - Lyrically
(Answered without changing the last two letters. Santa Anna winds do that to me)
I have been a reader all of my life. I worked with a playwriter when I was younger, after figuring out that the actors didn’t shape the story arc. I took up writing just recently when I was laid up for an extended period with no human interaction. Being incredibly lonely, this offered me a release of the thoughts / ideas / anxietiesrushing through my painkiller fogged head.
A story unread, may as well not exist.
Today, the winds are blowing and this seems most appropriate...
"There was a desert wind blowing that night. It was one of those hot dry Santa Ana's that come down through the mountain passes and curl your hair and make your nerves jump and your skin itch. On nights like that every booze party ends in a fight. Meek little wives feel the edge of the carving knife and study their husbands' necks."
- Raymond Chandler
Okay, so this is not a novel or book, per se...
“Then make Charley your father, Biff. You can’t do that, can you? I don’t say he’s a great man. Willy Loman never made a lot of money. His name was never in the paper. He’s not the finest character that ever lived. But he’s a human being, and a terrible thing is happening to him. So attention must be paid. He’s not to be allowed to fall into his grave like an old dog. Attention, attention must be finally paid to such a person.”
Miller, Death of a Salesman
Ichthyologist - Stupendous
“Cannery Row in Monterey in California is a poem, a stink, a grating noise, a quality of light, a tone, a habit, a nostalgia, a dream. Cannery Row is the gathered and scattered, tin and iron and rust and splintered wood, chipped pavement and weedy lots and junk heaps, sardine canneries of corrugated iron, honky tonks, restaurants and whore houses, and little crowded groceries, and laboratories and flophouses. Its inhabitant are, as the man once said, "whores, pimps, gambler and sons of bitches," by which he meant Everybody. Had the man looked through another peephole he might have said, "Saints and angels and martyrs and holymen" and he would have meant the same thing.”
John Steinbeck, Cannery Row
Clever girl!
As a frustrated math fan, I kept going in a different direction.
Good one!
Umbrage - genomic
A beautiful woman gathering her flowers
An officer and a gentleman
In honor of Autumn (in these northern climes), pot roast, jus, roasted sweet potatoes (not yams) with brussel sprouts, and grilled asparagus. Homemade ice cream for dessert.
"Isn't it pretty to think so." The Sun Also Rises, Hemingway
"Timshell." -East of Eden, Steinbeck
"The outcome of succesfull planning always looks like luck to saps." The Continental Op, Hammett
Rumple,
I am going to work through all the chapters.
Pasta carbonara with edamame substituted for peas, caprese salad, and homemade lemon curd and raspberry creme ice creams.
(Date night)
Grilled sliced steak over Isreali couscous, with asparagus and homemade ice cream.