• The day before that I started Intuition by Allegra Goodman. I could only get a large print edition from my local library and it actually hurts my eyes to read it. What's up with that? Enjoying it nonetheless.
• I am loving the blog Record the Day.
• That book Heroic Australian Women in War, the selection for bookgroup tonight which I was so looking forward to, was terribly disappointing. If I were less polite I'd say it was appalling. How could the publishers let typos, spelling mistakes, sloppy scholarship and lifeless writing get through like that? I noticed that the front of the book states that the author lectures at the University of Queensland, yet when I got to chapter three, there is a little sticky note on University of Queensland letterhead saying (and I quote) "Much of the info contained in this chapter is not accurate and the quotes attributed to A.K. are manufactured. This work should not be used as an academic text." Then throughout the chapter are little pencil marks denoting all the errors. (I wonder if the author still works at UQ? My guess is no.) I must say I felt vindicated when I read the note as I always feel oddly guilty if I criticise a book, especially one from a respected publishing house. Is it just me? I always presume people who choose to write about facts check their work, and that they have editors who recheck their work, not to mention provide ghost writers to wrangle flat, dull writing into elegant prose. Sigh ... I stopped reading at the end of chapter two. Updated to add: looks like her latest book is just as shambolic, if this review is anything to go by.
• Mothers' Day around here featured three homemade cards, a small boy in tears because he'd left his present at school, and a mandarin tree. I nearly have the full complement of citrus trees now, but as Son #3 pointed out, there's still a grapefruit tree to go. Next birthday is my guess. I did not get a fish oil capsule and now feel a little unappreciated, frankly.
• Mothers' Day also featured the distinctive smell of death. Throughout the afternoon that familiar rank smell grew and grew until we realised that another mouse had gone to god behind the refrigerator (where god resides apparently as all mice go there to end their days. Either that or behind the washing machine. God is in the whitegoods, clearly). Mr Soup did the honours with a dustpan and brush and the aid of a pissweak torch given to me at work the other day along with a showbag of other promotional goodies. That reminds me, does anyone need a new mousemat or stubbyholder?
• I kettle dyed some sock yarn recently. The lovely and gracious Nicole sent me a gift of three skeins of undyed sock yarn to play with. There's another skein in the dyepot this morning, being overdyed as it emerged looking like a candy shop, when I was after something slightly more subtle.
This skein, however, I LOVE.
I've also been continuing my