flemmings | (no subject)

We're at that perplexing time of the year when it's colder inside than out but it's *September* and no way can one justify turning on the heat. Space heaters, maybe, for short periods, but the rest of the time one must just put up with cold fingers and toes. Whereas I wore a jacket to go grocery shopping in the 15C afternoon and sweated.

Also, in a burst of 'last blow of summer', the city has torn up all the intersections along the main through street, the Barton Corridor, which for some reason known only to the planning department they couldn't have done when they were repaving that same street last June. Is a nuisance for a crippled biyclist like me because it means taking main streets to get anywhere for ohh the next fortnight.

Yesterday was a write-off in terms of production because I stayed under the quilts all day reading a Gladys Mitchell mystery. Golden Age, yes, but somehow very uncozy. There's many more if I want them but I think I'll go with Elizabeth Peters for my next. Did however salvage part of the day by steamrollering through the Johnny Walker the Cat Killer section of Kafuka, so at least that's done

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I consider reading VERY productive. I try to get much of my "housework" done in the morning so I can read, play my video games and browse LJ and Facebook while watching the afternoon Judge shows before starting dinner. If I don't get something done, it will still be there tomorrow. I no longer punch a clock for work and I refuse to do it at home now. I just started reading The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency series by Alexander McCall Smith. At first, it was so different that I almost stopped reading, but I didn't and now I am happily on book two. My library doesn't have another volume until 9 so I might have to buy a few if I want to continue reading them in order (a must for me).

Reading only lightwight stuff has the paradoxical effect of making me feel futile and and thus depressed, while reading foreign languages or something that's been on my shelves for decades cheers me up. So I'm postponing indulgence for a bit until the weather of the world improves to the point that I don't need cheering.

Lightweight reading cheers me up. At this point in time there are too many real life tragedies to want to read serious books. And too many years ago I majored in Bilingual Education and I spent ages reading books in Spanish. My favorite class though was the development of language, taking a Latin sentence and following the changes to modern day Spanish. Through years of not using the language I have forgotten more than I remember. I applaud your diligence with the Japanese language.

At this point in time there are too many real life tragedies to want to read serious books.

I... suppose? Occasionally I find it cheering to read how bad other people had it, like Chinese poets in turbulent dynasties or anyone during the Black Death. Puts my current situation into perspective. But it's true I'd read histories about them, not fiction.

There are things I really want to read in Japanese (my three favourite manga series) and kanji are the quintessence of 'use them or lose them' (as the Japanese themselves moan, though more for writing.) Thus it behooves me to keep reviewing. Or find myself looking up every third word once my favourite but oh so obscure manga series pop out another volume.