Slouching Toward Summer

Halfway through June, more, really. Where does the time go? So beautifully hot and birdy and languid these days. Sometimes it does rather sound like the jungle out there with happy chirping all over the place and crickets at night. We've taken to meals al fresco — sign of summer. And the new rule (imposed by MCR) is that unless the temperature is 90 or above (rare) we use open windows in the car, not the AC. See how hardy we've become?

MCR is having oodles of fun reading Tales of the City and entertaining me with it as well. My current foray into crime and detective novels does not call to her at all, and I know better than to read out the juicy bits. Often our little reading worlds collide (usually with the South Pacific and my wars) but not now. Also, I'm reading bits of Stevie Smith's poetry. More on that later when I have something coherent to say.

And don't see the movie Atonement — it's too good and tragic and upsetting. MCR isn't allowed anywhere near it. It is haunting me now, and I need to watch something else to tone down its spectral presence.