That evening I was ready to write and LJ entry when I found myself nodding off, probably thanks to the busy day, so I decided to take a short nap. During the nap I woke a couple of times, but lacking a functional bedside clock I didn't realize how late it was getting. I would wake up, and still be sleepy, and go back to sleep thinking it wasn't midnight yet, and when I finally got out out of bed and went into the bathroom where I had plugged in my phone to recharge I discovered from the phone's time display that it was going on six o'clock in the morning. But in the meantime I had completely forgotten that I had never gotten around to posting a journal entry.
Then stuff started happening, and continued to happen all day, and I went to the Goodwill store and bought some books and a DVD, and spent some time gloating over my purchases after getting them home, and only remembered the missing entry a short time ago. Sorry, leap day. Maybe I'll still be around and LJ will still exist in 2024. I'm not making any heavy bets on either, though.
Anyway, the books. I replaced three that I lost in the fire, though in different editions than I had before. I picked up copies of Kenneth Grahame's The Wind in the Willows, Swift's Gulliver's Travels, and Joyce's Ulysses. All classics, each in their own way. I also semi-replaced one book, or at least the subject of one book. I lost a copy of Amy Kelly's Eleanor of Aquitaine and the Four Kings, and it's unlikely I'll find a copy of that particular book at the Goodwill store, but today they did have a copy of Alison Weir's Eleanor of Aquitaine: A Life, so I snapped that up.
I also snagged some very light reading, starting with two more of Rita Mae Brown's mystery novels from her series with the cat detective, Mrs. Murphy; Pawing Through the Past and Catch as Cat Can. Brown's books are floof fluff, very easy distractions, and will come in handy if the coming pandemic keeps me stuck in the apartment for extended periods. So will the additional three books in Lemony Snickett's "A Series of Unfortunate Events" series I bought today; The Bad Beginning, The Carnivorous Carnival, and The Ersatz Elevator.
I also snagged two memoirs, one being George Burns's All My Best Friends, covering most of his very long career in show business, from vaudeville and radio through movies, television and his later years doing stand up comedy in nightclubs. The other memoir is The Jew Store, by Stella Suberman, whose family became the first Jews ever to move to the small Tennessee town (which she calls "Concordia" in the book) where they ran a dry goods store they opened in 1920, during the era when the KKK was at its height. It looks fascinating, and I'll probably move it to the top of my reading list.
Finally, I picked up another DVD, though I still haven't figured out which settings I have to change to get them to play on the computer. I'll figure it out eventually, and didn't want to pass up a bargain just because I haven't done so yet. It's The Two Towers, the middle movie in the "Lord of the Rings" trilogy. I know, now I have to wait around for the other two to turn up, and probably not get them on sale, but hey, that gives me more time to figure out how to play them on the computer. There would have been a second DVD, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, but I opened the case up and the movie disc was missing. Call me picky, but I don't want to buy just the "special features" disc without the movie, even at half price.
Anyway, it was a full day, and I got a big stack of stuff for less than twenty bucks, and feel none the worse for wear. I'm still hoping to get out to the bank and the other bus-accessible store Monday, and I think I'm still tired enough to get to sleep fairly early tonight. With luck, the next week will be less exciting than this one was. I'm getting too old for too much excitement. It distracts me from my woolgathering.
by Anne Sexton
Be careful of words,
even the miraculous ones.
For the miraculous we do our best,
sometimes they swarm like insects
and leave not a sting but a kiss.
They can be as good as fingers.
They can be as trusty as the rock
you stick your bottom on.
But they can be both daisies and bruises.
Yet I am in love with words.
They are doves falling out of the ceiling.
They are six holy oranges sitting in my lap.
They are the trees, the legs of summer,
and the sun, its passionate face.
Yet often they fail me.
I have so much I want to say,
so many stories, images, proverbs, etc.
But the words aren't good enough,
the wrong ones kiss me.
Sometimes I fly like an eagle
but with the wings of a wren.
But I try to take care
and be gentle to them.
Words and eggs must be handled with care.
Once broken they are impossible
things to repair.