This is a sad day for me, my friends. I have finished the sixth and final installment of Anthony Trollope’s Chronicles of Barsetshire and there is a hole in my heart. I’m generally very bad at keeping my own reading promises to myself; yet, somehow, it’s become increasingly possible–doable and pleasurably so, even–since I began…
Month: December 2012
Twas the night before Festivus and all through the house…
Well, nothing much is happening, actually. Not in this house anyway. We are an entirely secular little family of 9 (two adult humans, 5 adult cats, 2 adult rabbits). Tonight, hubby and I will eat homemade pizza and watch something silly on the telly. That’s all. It’ll be glorious, in an entirely understated and forgettable…
Peanut butter toast
The first meal I ever made myself was peanut butter toast. Likely, it was some shitty white bread, and likely it was that sugary slop that contains peanuts and is called, by some, peanut butter but isn’t actually peanut butter. Also, there was lots of butter beneath the “peanut butter.” An inauspicious beginning to my…
Clowns falling from the sky
A few months ago, I finished reading Wang Xiaobo’s cult favourite, Wang in Love and Bondage. This slim volume comprises three novellas, all of which were translated by Jason Somer and Zhang Hongling. The first tale, “2015”, is a brilliant pastiche of hilarity, satire, and the dreamily picaresque. I’ve never read anything like it; I…
Jam and Idleness 
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