The woodcutting has started in earnest, and it’s such pleasant work I have to stop my body from doing it so much I’ll get injured. As sad as I am to say goodbye to summer, there’s just something about fall. It’s beautiful.
Monthly Archives: August 2013
Several years ago one of my college professors asked me if I was reading Clive James. (The implication was that I should be.) I told him I had never heard of him. He was shocked: James was a regular contributor to those learned periodicals that a certain class of people consider obligatory reading for intelligent […]
Last Saturday there was a party to celebrate the Denning Town Garden, the creation of a group of citizens who wanted to create the town’s first public space. After the party – which was a wonderful celebration of our little upstate community – an artist who lives next door to the town garden showed – […]
A friend recently lent me a copy of Clive James’ book Cultural Amnesia – now that is a good friend – which I devoured over the course of a little over a week. The book is excellent, and what is particularly lovely about it is that it filled me with the desire to read everything […]
“No specter assails us in more varied disguises than loneliness, and one of its most impenetrable masks is called love.” – Arthur Schnitzler, quoted by Clive James. I’ve been reading James’ Cultural Amnesia, a fine book; essentially excerpts from James’ commonplace-book with essays built around them, on a general theme. Probably for personal reasons, my […]
Down in the upper 30s at night. Beautiful, early autumnal weather. Time to stack up the wood for the winter.
It was a short drive from Vegas to the California border. We had done it – we had driven New York to California, from Pizza Box on Bleecker Street to the Giant Sequoias in five days. We ate our lunch in a diner in Barstow, right on Route 66. Barstow could have been any of […]
The Venus of Las Vegas, holding aloft her golden apple. The fairest of them all indeed.
Our night in St. George was our first in a bed – each night going across the country our hospitium had been a floor – and we took advantage of our opportunity, sleeping soundly and late. It was to be our last night in a bed until the other side of the Sierras. This good […]