mjj (flemmings) wrote,


Haven't posted because nothing has been happening aside from the usual- work and wandering aches. Lower back/ lumbar at the moment, making walking unpleasant. Have had this pain before, many times: it recurs in spite of chiropracty, physiotherapy, acupuncture, and weight fluctuations. Can't remember what if anything made it go away the last time, and the time before, and back in 2015 when it seriously interfered with meditation, and and and.

But today I went down to the AGO to see what 2018 calendars they have. Not many and nothing that says 'This is IT!!' like last year's Emma Haworth calendar with its long distance views of London. Hokusai, Carr, and O'Keefe, of course; a whole calendar devoted to sections of The Garden of Earthly Delights which I have hanging over my bed and don't need to see in greater detail; and a Canadian artist who does odd representations of animals, so far the best bet. (Midoco had a Hasui calendar with all the warhorses, most disappointing. Maybe when they get more stock in... I mean, I always buy next door a Mucha calendar- the man was beyond prolific- and have no idea what to do if they stop producing art nouveau calendars.)

But being there decided to eat in their restaurant: a $15 Long Island Tea and a $15 appetizer of smoked slamon and marble bread (two slices, I grant you) plus assorted obscure small vegetables. Wish I was rich enough to indulge in a $25 hamburger which has no meat in it, being- as I understand it- a portobello mushroom with trimmings and fries on the side. Pretensions go- well, a lot farther in fashionable restaurants, I believe- but for a sort-of common person's venue like the AGO, that's pretty pretentious.

Agatha Christie, The Harlequin Tea Set
- what I said last time, not to mention the story written to promote tourism to the Isle of Man that has a good puzzle will that four heirs have to solve, and the couple do solve it-- but we aren't told *how* because Christie evidently couldn't be arsed to make that part up. Boo hiss.

C.S. Harris, Who Buries the Dead?
-- six volumes along from Where Serpents Sleep. St.Cyr is married and has a son and has made further terrible discoveries about his family in the melodramatic fashion of these books. Has Jane Austen in it, which is well enough. Fluff, and often annoying fluff, but actually good enough for mindless reading. Was jonesing after more, but BMV have emptied their loonie bin and do not carry these on the shelves.

Paul D. Gilbert's The Annals of Sherlock Holmes, pedestrian as ever.

Taking my time with 100 Demons 26, just because it's rare, and also because it's hard.

Will I ever finish the Schwab? No idea.

No idea. Man delights not me nor woman neither.
Tags: 100demons, art, health, holmes, meme, reading_17, rl_17

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