The end of the holiday...

Well this would suggest exotic locations with warm breezes, cool drinks and charming historical sites. Or at least elsewhere then home. Not for me, these four walls and the garden guilt monster. Been meaning for 16 years to do something about it but at least now mow it. I didn't for several years and for 2 weeks it looked a vision of natural landscape trapped in the BQ squares of urban patch quilts (pseud!) Needless to say I am surrounded by garden saints who do dawn weed patrols. Rather spend my time finding books, talking about books and even reading books.

But its over, this morning although Sunday I need to complete various work things ready for Monday. Strange to say, before I do I did some more book mooching. Finished off reading and searching from The Rough Guide to Cult Fiction and so mooched

Stories in an Almost Classical Mode by Harold Brodkey

Blue Highways: A Journey into America by William Least Heat-Moon

A Fan's Notes by Frederick Exley

How German Is It = Wie Deutsch Ist Es: A Novel by Walter Abish

Now have to wait until tomorrow or longer to see if accepted as they have SELFISHLY all gone to bed(moochees being American and Canadian).

Oh, and if you were hanging on with dread and fear to hear about the fate of the smoke book, well wait no more. It rested in the sun and air all day yesterday and then was bathed in a de-stinking powder all night. Now need to get rid of this smell and so then fit to read.

Ah well a large mug of non-tea (long story about not needing stimulants, scientific reports, blah, blah) waits and then constructing the endless pages of report that no one will read. The best Slaves are those that think freedom is deciding who to be sold to.