1. The gecko people who gifted me with my highball glass are also the parents of one of our babies. The gecko was discovered near Christie Pits by a dog, not a human. Dog freaked out at something in the backyard that humans couldn't see until close investigation because, basically, chameleon-type gecko. I always wondered how that happened.
2. Workman is here. My dryer was mis-installed thirty years ago; no wonder it doesn't dry well. Let us not talk about mis-installed sink drains and shut-off taps. Moral: never trust a moonlighting plumber.
3. Snowed last night. Vanishes in sun today but probably not enough to let me bike to work. Knees are ballistic because of unmoving muscle knot in ITB.
4. Monthly reading under the
Okorafor, Akata Witch
Riggs, Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children
Cotterill, Grandad, I Found a Head on the Beach
Estleman, Dr Jekyll and Mr Holmes
Hodel and Wright, Enter the Lion
Rendell, Babes in the Woods
Bledsoe, The Hum and the Shiver
Peace, Tokyo Year Zero
Hardwick, Sleepless Nights
1 WoC, 2 TBR- though that to me means 'read and discard, finally' and I have no intention of discarding the Hardwick.
Abandoned: The Book of Life. Goodreads question: Can I read this book without reading the other two? Answer: Why would you want to?
Laughing Lost in the Mountains. Barnstone père's Poundian approach to hanzi are, well, debatable. I doubt native readers see characters in terms of their elements before seeing them as words with sounds: anymore than I at once think of 'dis'- heavy grievous and 'card'- flat cardboard thing when I say discard. Barnstone fils' translations compare badly with Robinson: they don't seem to reflect the hanzi, let alone read well as poems.