January 13, 2021
Gleanings
- But this year, the ritual of school drop-off has evolved into the most important social space in my life.
- If last year proved anything, it is that readers are devoted to the printed word and that booksellers, publishers, festivals, and other stakeholders are resilient and flexible in their desire and ability to continue getting books into the hands of those who want them.
- Does that tell you something? I just decided to do it. I was feeling desperate. I thought, Why have I done all these things for others, all these other things? I’ve written a chunk of this thing, but it’s not enough. So there was the chocolate bar bribe. There was the writing jar hack. And the desperation.
- Let’s not forget the surging river as the ice melts in spring.
- But whatever superpowers of fortune telling or planning that I lack, I’ve decided I make up for with the superpower of optimism.
- And while I didn’t plan out the book that would usher in a new year of reading for me, it turns out that I could not have chosen a better one to set the tone for 2021.
- 2020 was also the year in which I learned about mending, tending, and extending.
- I like post-apocalyptic literature as much as the next guy. Just not… now.
- Today I awoke with a happy sense of anticipation, resolved to live through 2021 bravely, gallantly; as an adventure.
- Yesterday a cousin sends pictures of alpine snow heavy on branches, mountains, rooftops, and me here in the rain feeling snow envy…
- I was always glad to see people out walking, moving, striding along, whether with a friend or alone.
- Once you’ve drunk tea from a handmade mug, no ordinary, mass made one will do.
- I once took apart an essay and put it together in a much better way, all while doing the backstroke
- We are here, I say to myself, what can we do with what we have?
- It’s not how many you read that counts. It’s that you read that counts – and it counts so very much.
- Anyway, I’d like to start a New-New Year’s tradition. Let’s not look forward, let’s fucking look BACK. Every year, on December 31st, let’s count our damn blessings.
- “2020 will begin on a high note,” I wrote at the end of 2019’s “Year in Reading” post. As far as reading goes, at least, I wasn’t wrong.
- It’s funny that they’re called English muffins because the only place we ever ate them was in Florida and Bermuda when we visited our grandparents.It’s funny that they’re called English muffins because the only place we ever ate them was in Florida and Bermuda when we visited our grandparents.
