Out of Sight, Out of My Mind

There hasn't been any room construction to report on this week. It's been too cold and wet for them to be outside on the roof. Plus today is Good Friday, so everything is closed anyway, even if it were dry enough to do anything. Then we have Easter Monday (these Germans are almost as good as the Swedes at milking their religious holidays for days off), so I have to make sure to lay in enough groceries on Saturday to get through all the store closings.

I must extend my apologies to Mr. DeLillo. I am afraid we got off on the wrong foot, and I would like to publicly retract that "literary wanking" crack. I guess the bus stop is not the right milieu for starting a new novel. Plus I get really obstinate about not liking a book when the cover and first two pages are covered with accolades from the likes of Salman Rushdie and Michael Ondaatje. But after 650 pages, I must say I'm mostly enjoying his story. It's a sort of six degrees of separation in American history, roughly following ownership of a baseball. Okay, that's so crudely outlined as to be useless, but I have found over the years that I am good on the understanding things, but not so good on the explaining things. So 2 thumbs up so far, Mr. DeLillo.

How Do I Love School? Let Me Count the Ways

I'm starting to equate school with childbirth, and it totally makes sense. Before the semester starts, I'm all eager and thinking how great it's going to be. Yes, there is the potential for disaster, but I won't think about it right now; it doesn't apply to me. During the semester, my level of discomfort increases steadily, but I can still handle it. When it comes time to labor over exams and papers, I think, "God! How did I ever think I could do this? I'll never make it! I am never doing this again!" Then I get my (mostly good) grades back, and I have totally forgotten about all the aggravation and hard work until the next time.

The summer semester starts in a week-and-a-half, and I have to read 3 novels before then. A professor kindly let me into his already-full class, and now I have to be sure to be thoroughly prepared to repay him. I started Don DeLillo's Underworld right after buying it this morning, and all I have to say is that I hope the other 810 pages are not a lot of literary wanking about baseball.

That is all.

Look at the big brain on Hannah!

Hannah has always had this knack of asking weird questions out of the blue. I have tried to answer them straightforward and without commenting on or questioning why she asked, so she'll continue to feel she can ask me stuff. Sometimes the questions are about making babies and other personal topics, but a couple of nights ago, she wanted me to explain 4-D.

Whuuh?

She followed along pretty well while I was describing 3-D (she'll have a head start in geometry, at least), but when I added the dimension of time, I lost her. Oh, well. I don't think a lot of adults get it either (or think about it at all), so she's in good company. Maybe it will make sense when she reaches junior high.