Sunday...

After being overcast and rainy on Saturday, we were rewarded with sunshine and clear skies. It has warmed to the point that heat in the late hours, which I had been using to take off the chill that comes with old windows and poor insulation, is no longer necessary. I found a couple of old hot water bottles and those do a good job of warming the bed. My cat enjoys the extra bit of heat as well it seems. He is holding his own and loves the extra attention from me.

My cough persists though it appears to be improving slowly. Warm ginger tea with honey seems to help and yes, stuff is still coming up. Apart from that, I read when I cannot sleep and have three books : That Can't Happen Here by Sinclair Lewis, Quiet by Susan Cain and a study of housing and eviction by Andrew Desmond called Evicted.

Though originally published in the mid-thirties, Lewis could easily be writing about today.    Evicted is an ethnographic study of poverty, eviction and housing instability and the impact of those on families and community. Cain's book contains a lot of timely and well documented information on both introverts and extroverts which I as one of the latter, appreciate. All the not-so-good-natured remarks I received as a kid about needing to be more sociable? Crap. Introverts have our own strengths and this is a book I wish more parents and teachers would read.

Apart from these bibliographic adventures, I managed to find a childhood acquaintance on Social Media and look forward to chatting her up about the Lewis book when I'm done with it. I've got to do laundry and catch up on food preparation as well as organizing a check up for Jacob.

 I've been writing a bit offline and find myself stymied about conveying the feelings I had as a six-year-old around some of my early school experiences. At that point in my life, and yes, I do have some recollections, I was in a self-contained Special Education room with mostly teen-age boys on an Army base during the Vietnam war. One of my classmates who was about twelve or thirteen lost an older brother, at that time a recent graduate of West Point, in Vietnam and over my lifetime, I've periodically found myself dreaming about the younger boy who for a time would awaken from our rest period crying or lost in nightmares. I do not know why this springs to mind but it somehow left an impression on me.

Hopefully, I'll spend a bit more time outdoors this week. Cheers!