On This Chilly Thursday Morning: NYTBR 16 December 2007

Today’s horoscope says: “This is not a good day to throw your money around.”

Self’s first words to hubby this morning, delivered as he is brushing his teeth, are: Benazir Bhutto was assassinated yesterday. (And, self has been listening to the Today show for 10 minutes now, and there’s still no information on the assassination, news of which self picked up on the internet)

Self must have been knocked out, for she slept for eight and a half hours straight, a record. Neck aches exceedingly (therefore it must be cold), and the dogs are milling about, waiting impatiently to be fed (as self usually feeds them the minute she gets up).

Self still groggy, but here are the books self is interested in reading after perusing the (rather thin) issue of the 16 December 2007 New York Times Book Review :

(1) After reading Siddhartha Deb’s review of Nadine Gordimer’s new short story collection, Beethoven was One-Sixteenth Black :

These previous books by Gordimer:

    The Conservationist
    Burger’s Daughter
    July’s People
    Why Haven’t You Written? Selected Stories, 1950 – 1972

(2) After reading Jennifer Gilmore’s review of Esther Freud’s new novel, Love Falls :

    Esther Freud’s Love Falls
    Esther Freud’s first novel, Hideous Kinky

(3) After reading Mark Kamine’s review of Madison Smartt Bell’s homage to Baltimore, Charm City: A Walk Through Baltimore :

Madison Smartt Bell’s Charm City: A Walk Through Baltimore

Brrr, Brrr, Brrrrr . . .

It is cold this evening! Just before dinner, self and hubby made a dash to Safeway to pick up more Duraflame logs. Self suddenly remembered: It’s Spare the Air Week! “So what,” hubby said, “I’m freezing.”

For this Safeway run, self was dressed thus: in sweatshirt, sweatpants, coat, woolen muffler, furry socks, and sneakers.

Everyone else she saw in Safeway was in parka (a number with furry trim) and/ or Ugg boots. Self is contemplating getting herself a pair.

Today is also the first day of son’s vaunted cross-country trip. He and two other buddies from Cal Poly (including Nick the evangelist) plan to make it to New York City and back, by January 5.

Son left for Vacaville (where he is meeting up with the other two) at 9 AM this morning. At 5:30, self decided to give him a call.

“Where are you?” self asked.

“Far, far away,” son said.

“And where exactly is that?” self asked.

“Vacaville,” son replied.

Self practically shrieked, “Vacaville???”

“We’re just getting ready to leave,” son said. “It took a while for us to get our stuff sorted out.”

“So what’s your first stop?” self inquired.

“Oklahoma,” son said. “Ooops, gotta go.”

Self’s next call was to hubby. “They’re going to make their first stop Oklahoma,” she says.

“What?” hubby yells. “Do you know how far Oklahoma is?”

Well, self has to admit that she only has the vaguest idea of where Oklahoma is (which of course did not impede her at all from attempting to write a novel last year that was set in Oklahoma . . . ).

“It is 1500 miles away,” hubby says.

“Ohhh,” self says.

“I’ll bet you anything they won’t get farther than Las Vegas,” hubby says.

And, self thinks, that’s probably not a bad place to stop.

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