How is it that a flat tire can be spotted in the dark, on a black driveway? There it was this cold (5 degrees) morning. It is going to have to wait for two reasons: it really is too cold for discretionary outdoor work, and I have an aversion toward calling AAA when a car is sitting in my own driveway.
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Last night I found myself chuckling out loud as I was reading. There are few books in my memory where the writing has caused any sort of noise at all. But for laughter, any book by Anne Lamott, the antics of the otters in Ring of Bright Water, the game of gallina in Red Sky At Morning, that’s about it.
The book I’m reading was a Christmas present from my daughter, Truck: A love story. Michael Perry is my kind of writer, light and breezy style with a definite knack for word pictures. My chuckles brought a retort from elsewhere in the bedroom,
“I’m planning on reading that book.”
“Let me read this bit to you.”
“No! I want to read the book for myself.”
I think she has forgotten the numerous times where every single good and interesting part of a book has been read to me. All that’s left for me, when I pick it up, is to discover the threads which join all those pearls together.
In the meantime, I’ll enjoy the book on my own … with an occasional chuckle.
In a dim light... 