Scattered

My mind is more like these scattered crabapples on the ground than it is focused on a big, clear picture. Summer over, vacation past, winter looming. There will be time to settle down to large projects, but these days I'm more in grazing mode, easily distracted. Yesterday in the car, waiting for David, I started a book by May Sarton. I think it's called KINDS OF LOVE, but it's still out in the car, so when I woke up in the middle of the night it was Karen Armstrong's A SHORT HISTORY OF MYTH that kept me company.

Friend Sally stopped in the bookstore on Saturday and recommended Naomi Klein's THE SHOCK DOCTRINE: THE RISE OF DISASTER CAPITALISM. John Cusack did an interview that Sally forwarded by e-mail, and I'll put a link in here as soon as I can figure out how. Then this morning's issue of "Shelf Awareness" featured Klein, also. The book certainly sounds, as our grandson Spencer would say, "right up my alley," so it will be on my next order list.

Most important thought of this morning, however, is that it is my son's birthday. A Michigan resident since the age of three months old, he will, like me, never be a native. (I was born in South Dakota.) But this is our home, right, Ian? Happy birthday!!!