People say there was a ferocious thunderstorm last night, with brilliant lightning, huge cracks of thunder, scary winds, and torrential rain. I woke briefly to the sound of someone rolling a wheelie bin down some walkway, heard nothing else, and went back to sleep. May it always be thus, because usually the faintest thunder rumble has me at once awake and waiting for the next peal.
The one fantoddy thing about the weekend was going back to 1Q84, in English. I remembered virtually all of the she-plot and literally nothing at all of the he-plot. A few pages reminded me- oh yeah, the writer and the novella and the commune and all that. But I haven't touched the thing since, at a guess, some time in 2012. (Looks. April '12, exactly, before May's unusual heat put an end to it.) A bit of weird time travel, to the early days of that year, now nearly forgotten. Would like to keep on with it but dear god the English translation is a door-stopper, only to be read at the dining room table and preferably with a reading stand.