There really are too MANY ducks--and I am starting to feel responsible for unbalancing nature. I guess that's my role as a human being, but hey! They are looking so pretty down by the stream, though. I finished WINTER JOURNAL by Paul Auster last night. It's a great book, if you like a little of this, a little of that, (which I do!) and lots of event from a life and much meditation on the past. He mentions he is writing this in a book with a ball-point pen, and I am just a little suspicious, because he has been writing on a 1974 Olympia Portable for DECADES! He said so himself. Whatever. .. I really enjoyed it and immediately re-Kindled somemore Auster before I fell asleep.
And now it is time to go again. Before I do, I should mention that Thornton Wilder is back as a Major from Army Service in World War II. Unscratched, but somewhat discombulated for a time. He did lots of good work in Europe, and used all his languages, as well as his organizational skills, good sense and stern moral compass. Too bad his father didn't live to see it!
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