Cassandra sank into the deep porch chair with a sigh, kicking up her flats and leaning against the arm of her chair to prop her feet on the one opposite. It was an awkward position, but not uncomfortable with the pillows she had layered on the chairs. Monday had been a real Monday this week and all she wanted was to lay back and watch as the sun slowly finished sinking over the horizon.
She'd prepped the sun room before sitting, knowing that she wouldn't want to rise again. The windows were open and through the screens she could hear the crickets and cicadas starting to make noise in the deepening evening. The storm that had blown itself out over the weekend had left behind a good breeze, pouring through one side of the room and out the other, a relief from the direct heat of the day. On the wind came the fresh scent of grass from the yard her next-door neighbor had finished mowing not half and hour ago. With the unpredictable rain, it wasn't safe to try and leave yard work until the weekend, any day that the grass managed to dry was good enough.
To her left, on the little wicker table between the chairs, the ice melting in her glass of water gave a pop and settled. The two books stacked next to it, one atop the other, spines facing outward, seemed to settle as well. Cassandra neglected to pick one up just yet, stretching out one foot, then the other, from her ankle straight through the tips of her toes. The dip of one cushion over a button cradled one heel as she crossed her other foot over it. One arm rested on the jutting arm of her chair and she let the other lay over her stomach and part of a hip as she let her neck relax fully into her pose. For a moment her eyes slid shut, but she languidly opened them once more, gazing towards the pick glow far across the fields.
8.26.2019
8.21.2019
Dispatches From War (and Peace): Book One, Part II, Week Three
So I agreed to read War and Peace over the course of the year with a good friend of mine. (Who probably needs a nom de plume here. A blog de plume? Or would that be nom de blog? Let's see, she's good at so many things, but I can't think of any catchy names for any of them. It took me the whole blog post to think of something, I just filled her name in with ????, but I have it at last: KitchLit. She really likes cooking and cookbooks and books to do with cooking and she's my Number One resource for restaurant advice. This name should have really occurred to me sooner.) I was prepared for the length and I was even prepared for everyone having three names, this is not my first Russian novel, my friends. However, I don't think I adequately prepared myself for my mind not managing to retain who anybody is for longer than a chapter. Even worse, this was my own idea, so I can't even complain that I'm being forced.
Past having to flip back to the previous part every other page to find the origin story of someone who sounds vaguely familiar, I'm invested in how this all turns out now. Which is good, since I have to see it through whether I'm invested or not. The first part, which I read last month before the birth of the blog (aren't you lucky to have missed that?), was in the 'peace' part, although everyone was talking about the war-to-come. I enjoyed this part, it was all people in society, dinner parties, and politics. Plus there was a deathbed conspiracy, which was very exciting, if a little confusing when I kept forgetting who was who in the conspiracy.
We have left Part I behind now, though, and it is Part II, which is very much reminding us of the 'war' half of this proposition. Now I have to keep track of names *and* a running list of battles. I've sort of given up on that part, I have to admit. They're fighting and I know the general country they're in at the moment. That's going to have to be good enough to be getting on with. Plus, plus!, all of the women are gone, which is very demoralizing. The women were the best part of the first part! I'm pinning all my hopes now on Rostov, who is young and idealistic and endearingly optimistic, so his perspective is entertaining. Although I still don't really understand what happened when he was at the camp. (Probably camp? When they weren't marching.) He'd just gone to confront the soldier who'd stolen money from his superior, we see the confrontation, then his superior is chewing him out for having gone to confront the soldier and a subsequent argument (maybe?) with a different superior who was also there. I flipped back at least twice, sure I must have missed something because the other superior was never mentioned in the scene and I thought it had been resolved with their argument. I've accepted it and moved on, but I'm still confused and not 100% certain that my book isn't missing pages.
Well, I'm sure this was very exciting to all concerned - tune in next week for more of me patiently waiting for a woman to show back up again in this book. Failing that you might get to hear my rant about how Tolstoy treated his wife and why this book should have both their names on it. Hurry back!
Past having to flip back to the previous part every other page to find the origin story of someone who sounds vaguely familiar, I'm invested in how this all turns out now. Which is good, since I have to see it through whether I'm invested or not. The first part, which I read last month before the birth of the blog (aren't you lucky to have missed that?), was in the 'peace' part, although everyone was talking about the war-to-come. I enjoyed this part, it was all people in society, dinner parties, and politics. Plus there was a deathbed conspiracy, which was very exciting, if a little confusing when I kept forgetting who was who in the conspiracy.
We have left Part I behind now, though, and it is Part II, which is very much reminding us of the 'war' half of this proposition. Now I have to keep track of names *and* a running list of battles. I've sort of given up on that part, I have to admit. They're fighting and I know the general country they're in at the moment. That's going to have to be good enough to be getting on with. Plus, plus!, all of the women are gone, which is very demoralizing. The women were the best part of the first part! I'm pinning all my hopes now on Rostov, who is young and idealistic and endearingly optimistic, so his perspective is entertaining. Although I still don't really understand what happened when he was at the camp. (Probably camp? When they weren't marching.) He'd just gone to confront the soldier who'd stolen money from his superior, we see the confrontation, then his superior is chewing him out for having gone to confront the soldier and a subsequent argument (maybe?) with a different superior who was also there. I flipped back at least twice, sure I must have missed something because the other superior was never mentioned in the scene and I thought it had been resolved with their argument. I've accepted it and moved on, but I'm still confused and not 100% certain that my book isn't missing pages.
Well, I'm sure this was very exciting to all concerned - tune in next week for more of me patiently waiting for a woman to show back up again in this book. Failing that you might get to hear my rant about how Tolstoy treated his wife and why this book should have both their names on it. Hurry back!
8.19.2019
Cozy Fic: A New Blog
Hello friends!
I've decided to give sharing online a try, so we'll see how this goes. With my usual luck, it'll be swept aside in a matter of weeks and I'll come across this account next year and feel a sense of embarrassment that I couldn't keep it together for even an entire month. It's good to start with low expectations, right?
In addition to three posts a week here: Pictures , Recipes , and Stories (?) (Titles are a work in progress.) (As are what I'm actually going to be doing those days, frankly.), I am also going to try and post a picture a day over on Instagram - I am headed into the Internet full force! We'll see what else Internet-land has to offer as we go. I've heard things about Tumblr, but I'm still not sure what I'm supposed to put on there, so that may be a long term goal once I understand what it is/does/has/?.
I think this may be supposed to be Story Day (Story Time? Curl Up With A Monitor? Cozy Time? Cozy Fiction? Is that a genre, I think that's a genre. It sounds better than Story Day, any road.) So, if this is the newly christened 'Cozy Fic' posting day, I guess I'm starting off with the story of setting up this blog. Which is a pretty cozy story, I guess, so let me paint you the picture.
Exterior: Dark and rainy, with the weather alternating between lashing sideways and subsiding into the sky with muttered grumbling in the distance. It's a late summer storm, so the air when it is not actively raining is thick and heated, which would make the rain a welcome guest were it not for the previous two months of flooding. Even from here, I can almost hear the creeks rising over their beds again across the fields.
Interior: A golden-glow of a kitchen with two lanky cats livening up the room, an orange one sprawled over my feet and a gray-white beastie curled in my lap. Between the bouts of rain, the sound of crickets pierces through the room over the quiet hum of the laptop. Also on the counter desk space, tossed casually to one side, is a pen and a scrap of paper. Neatly down one corner of the page is a list, all the items of which are crossed out except one: Ms Read.
I am Ms Read now, and this is my blog (for however long it lasts). Welcome!
I've decided to give sharing online a try, so we'll see how this goes. With my usual luck, it'll be swept aside in a matter of weeks and I'll come across this account next year and feel a sense of embarrassment that I couldn't keep it together for even an entire month. It's good to start with low expectations, right?
In addition to three posts a week here: Pictures , Recipes , and Stories (?) (Titles are a work in progress.) (As are what I'm actually going to be doing those days, frankly.), I am also going to try and post a picture a day over on Instagram - I am headed into the Internet full force! We'll see what else Internet-land has to offer as we go. I've heard things about Tumblr, but I'm still not sure what I'm supposed to put on there, so that may be a long term goal once I understand what it is/does/has/?.
I think this may be supposed to be Story Day (Story Time? Curl Up With A Monitor? Cozy Time? Cozy Fiction? Is that a genre, I think that's a genre. It sounds better than Story Day, any road.) So, if this is the newly christened 'Cozy Fic' posting day, I guess I'm starting off with the story of setting up this blog. Which is a pretty cozy story, I guess, so let me paint you the picture.
Exterior: Dark and rainy, with the weather alternating between lashing sideways and subsiding into the sky with muttered grumbling in the distance. It's a late summer storm, so the air when it is not actively raining is thick and heated, which would make the rain a welcome guest were it not for the previous two months of flooding. Even from here, I can almost hear the creeks rising over their beds again across the fields.
Interior: A golden-glow of a kitchen with two lanky cats livening up the room, an orange one sprawled over my feet and a gray-white beastie curled in my lap. Between the bouts of rain, the sound of crickets pierces through the room over the quiet hum of the laptop. Also on the counter desk space, tossed casually to one side, is a pen and a scrap of paper. Neatly down one corner of the page is a list, all the items of which are crossed out except one: Ms Read.
I am Ms Read now, and this is my blog (for however long it lasts). Welcome!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)