A day of welcome quiet.
I'm at home for once on a Thursday. I've hardly any email. The kids are at school, the spouse at a meeting downtown, light snow falls, taking with it the noise of the world. The fireplace is warm and I've spent the morning on the couch nearby.
I've been losing myself in Suzanne Conklin Akbari's Idols in the East. My bookmark is my train ticket from Florence to Pisa. The volume also accompanied me to Berlin. My review is due to AHR on January 1; expect a preview here soon.
The photo is my study window, our neighbor's yard visible through the snow. With its green junipers and bare dogwood, the picture makes it seem as if we live deep in the country rather than at the busy DC line. A game of "I Spy" will yield the blog mascot in his solemn dignity; a tiki idol that I bought in Hawaii many years ago; a picture frame I received on father's day when Alex was younger than Katherine now is; the rose window of the north transept of Notre Dame de Paris; and a gift that heartens me every time I look at it, the clock on the lefthand side, inscribed "To our hlaf-weard" and signed "Lowell, Jessica, Nedda." It was given to me by my TAs last year.
My study is our house's smallest room, the former nursery. It's filled with objects that mean more than the little space can contain.
2 comments:
Just as I finished this post I remembered that I used its title last year, when we were living in a different house. Too much Joyce on the brain.
And the post was just three days later last year. ;) Scary!
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