Summer Reading

I've been buying books like some people buy shoes. I've been the happy, lucky recipient of some gift books, too. I have more to read (about three months worth of New Yorkers, Martha Stewarts, and Real Simples), but this is the top ten on my book list.

A Concise Chinese-English Dictionary for Lovers by Xiaolu Guo. A gift from my dear friend Debbie that I can't wait to read.

Time Bites by Doris Lessing. A Christmas gift from my friend Wendy.

River of Darkness by Rennie Airth (a secret Santa offering)

Emma Brown by Clare Boylan, from an unfinished manuscript by Charolotte Bronte. Doesn't that sound intriguing?? Another secret Santa gift.

The Appeal by John Grisham. Might not keep this on the list. Been trying to read this when I go to bed but it's not keeping me up.

Duma Key by Stephen King. Did you read the excerpt in The New Yorker? I'm intrigued. I'm also an unashamed King fan.

All the Names by Jose Saramago. I loved Blindness.

Atonement by Ian McEwan

So Brave, Young, and Handsome by Leif Enger. I loved his first book, Peace Like a River. This got a good write up in a recent Washington Post Bookworld

Edith Wharton by Hermione Lee. I've had this since last summer, but haven't had a chance to get to it. It's an enormous tome. Definitely not one to take to the beach.

Fireflies

I saw the very first firefly of the season last night. I know it was the very first and nobody else saw it. It was magical; in the woods at the confluence of two very busy roads, but for a moment there were no cars. Just the sounds of the woods. Well, and the dogs panting. And Mosby licking the gravel for a scrap of somebody's picnic leftovers. Some of the eager beaver first fireflies were blinking very fast, and others seemed to be just waking up. I love this time of the summer.

Progress

I mailed off the contract and a deposit to Geofreeze today. Yay! The paperwork says I'll be on their schedule within a week of them getting my check. And cashing it, I'm sure, but still. I'm dusting off the sledgehammer and claw tool. I'm just itching to get into that wall to see what's what. Then I want it fixed and I want to paint. And drag the livingroom furniture to the curb, strip and paint in there, then move to the dining room. My friend Wendy keeps asking (and has been for months, maybe years) what COLOR do I want. Have we picked a COLOR yet. Honestly. The color comes so far down the list of why we haven't moved forward, it doesn't matter. Well, it does to Russ. I guess it does to me too, but I'm the one picking the chips and he's the one saying, "No that won't do." What he wants is no color. With white trim. I don't want it to look like the Caribbean (all hot pink and turquoise), but I want something. He doesn't seem to mind the color of dirt, fingerprints, and dog noseprints that have been there for as long as we've lived in the house.