'The Illustrious House Of Ramires' A Novel by Eca De Queiros Translated from the Portuguese, with an afterword by Margaret Jull Costa
'The Accidental Life: An Editor's Notes on Writing and Writers' A Memoir by Terry McDonell
'Melancholy' essays by Laszlo F. Foldenyi Translated From The Hungarian By Tim Wilkinson
'A User’s Guide to Melancholy' by Mary Ann Lund
'The Anatomy Of Melancholy' by Robert Burton
It is 11:05 AM Friday late morning here in West Michigan. I was just outside putting clean water into a bird bath. It is a warm sunny day. It is strange to have warm weather when it has been so cold for so very long.
I got up this morning around 6:15 AM. I immediately got on my street clothes and took our son's dog Ollie for his morning walk. To be honest in my advanced age I am not into walking. I am constantly amazed to see in our neighborhood old people walking around. Why are these old people walking around? They should be resting their worn out souls.
When I got back from walking our son's dog (that we are babysitting till this coming Sunday) I changed my clothes and put on my rags.
Carol made a pot of oatmeal for breakfast. After breakfast Carol read and prayed for our morning devotions. Most mornings I am too beat down to read from a devotional book or lift up my voice in prayer. Usually in the morning I am ready to call in and ask for the day to be canceled.
This morning Carol left to do errands and I wrote in my paper diary and filmed a video Friday Reads Chat.
There is not much else to report so I will close to collapse somewhere dark and filled with divine grace.