Lockdown reading. I seem to recall muttering something about taking more photos last time I passed this way. What I actually meant was for next time...
Has anyone read Where the Crawdads Sing? It has such good reviews, I was so excited about the idea of reading it. Then I started it and it was so utterly dismal at the beginning I couldn't stand it. Lockdown reading has to be very carefully selected I've found. But I did wonder if I should have persevered. Then the library asked for it back, so that was that. If anyone can persuade me to give it a proper go I shall be happy to hear from them. I have annoyed myself rather.
I thought Three Hours was excellent. Hard to say much about it without spoilers, but one line in particular was very damning I thought. More than just a simple entertaining story.
Sir Philip Pullman remains my favourite writer and his Daemon Voices On Stories and Storytelling is exceptionally promising so far. The sort of book where I want to write down all the quotes.
And hopefully Intuitive Editing will help me faff around with the manuscripts. Tiffany Yates Martin seems very knowledgeable on the subject.
And with that, my to be read pile is looking a bit small. Do send any recommendations my way.
In other news, the frogs have gathered in the pond and there is frogspawn. I always feel so sorry for them at this time of year, I see them wandering the streets in the evening, desperately searching for a pond. They are so few and far between. I told a group of teenage boys the other evening to mind the frog, who was sat in the middle of the pavement trying to be invisible. I looked back to check they'd obeyed and found them giving it a ten-foot berth, which made me laugh.
The Bewick's swans have headed back to the Arctic tundra for the breeding season. They had a bit of a false start this year, when the cold weather swept in from the East. Four days after leaving, they turned up again, which is really unusual. Safely on their way now though.
And one final sign that spring is in the air, the clunky, ringing crash of a skateboard shooting across the patio at high speed and smashing into a terracotta pot. Sigh. I spent Sunday afternoon sticking them back together - the skateboard one and the ones that the frost got. Everything is (briefly) together now.
The urchins may be on their way back to school next week. It will be strange without them. How are things in your neck of the woods? Frogs? Books? Skateboards? Do tell. CJ xx