blog, because my mom and lots of other people in town are reading it in preparation for the author's arrival in town later this month for a lecture and workshop.
"There are two copies of it in this house, if you want to read it," said my dad. "But borrow your mom's copy, because I've got two chapters to go." Nonetheless, he already knows he will take issue with Meyers on at least one main thrust of the book. "There's a lot I like," he says, "but there's one thing I disagree with."
That's my dad.
"I still have some questions to answer," said my mom. She's in a class on the book, and the conscientious teacher always has a handout or questionnaire. A conscientious retired teacher herself, my mom always does the homework!
Dad's in a class on the book, too, but it meets at lunchtime, and they never discuss the book.
Sometimes--there's childhood--so quickly!*
Lyrics of a Sunday school song return: For the Bible tells me so.
*I always knew I was meant to play Blanche Dubois. (Study Guide, scene six, Streetcar Named Desire.)
Poetry prompt: The pleasures of randomness
2 hours ago