Have you ever thought about the irony of air conditioning?
Air conditioning takes energy, which is made by burning fossil fuels, which leads to global warming, which makes it hotter, which means you run your air conditioning more, which uses more energy . . .
Have you herd of the sheep who was baad to the bone?
He went on a rampage, then used his cell phone
To call his sweet mate. “Hello, Dolly!” he said,
“I love ewe but from now on consider me dead.”
By shear luck he escaped from the flock of police,
Pulled the wool o’er their eyes without losing his fleece.
He went on the lam and spent years ruminating
On what always comes from the madness of hating.
He finally turned himself in to the Feds.
“I’m so very sorry that we butted heads.”
His words were sincere, but his lanolin smile
Didn’t soften the heart of the judge at his trial.
“You’re baad to the bone. You must go to the pen!”
Said the judge when he sentenced the young sheep to ten.
Remember this tale when you lie down to sleep,
And count on your blessings instead of black sheep.
The Great Library Purge has begun. I filled three whole bags with books to be given away. Three bags, and I’ve barely even scratched the surface!
I went to the library today. While browsing in the non-fiction section, I noticed some books about wedding planning.
Hey! I have a wedding to plan!
So I took a closer look, and that’s when I discovered that the wedding books are right next to the death books.
Wedding—>Death
:O
This is an experiment to see if it’s possible to post in the past.
Before I give away A Swiftly Tilting Planet, let me share a passage that caught my eye. The bad guy, called El Rabioso, wants to nuke America. Here’s the explanation of why.
“El Rabioso sees this as an act of punishment, of just retribution. The Western world has used up more than our share of the world’s energy, the world’s resources, and we must be punished . . . . We are responsible for the acutely serious oil and coal shortage, the defoliation of trees, the grave damage to the atmosphere, and he is going to make us pay.”
What I find interesting is that this was published back in 1978. The author thought that the situation was so bad back then, yet here we are nearly 30 years later still bitching and moaning and behaving as if these problems are new.
Isn’t that sad?
Last night I finished reading A Swiftly Tilting Planet by Madeleine L’Engle.
Grade: B
A Swiftly Tilting Planet is a companion to A Wrinkle in Time and A Wind in the Door, both of which I loved. I really wanted to like this book. Some parts were good but overall it was preachy, and I got mighty sick of one character’s inane comments to her dog. Even so, I almost want to keep the book because it belongs to a series and it’s just a little paperback that hardly takes up any room.
No, I have to stick with the new rule, and the new rule is this: I will keep each book of a series up to the last book that I really like. The trouble is that the series has a fourth book, Many Waters. I feel like I ought to read it before making a final decision. (Nah. I looked it up and it doesn’t sound very appealing. I’ll just keep the two books that I love and pretend that the other two don’t exist.)
July has arrived, its suitcase practically bursting with long summer days, and each day is a fresh page on which to write your life.
A romance or a mystery? A thriller or a comedy? Which one will you write today?
Imagine driving down the highway at night, hungry for dinner, thinking to yourself that bangers and mash would really hit the spot. You pick a random exit for food and stumble across a British Beer Company restaurant. You order bangers and mash and the bangers and mash are the balls.
Now that’s good luck!
I just finished reading The Thief Lord by Cornelia Funke.
Grade: A
This book grabs you and hurtles you straight into the heart of Venice, and though I never before had any desire to visit Italy, I now want very much to go. The ending is a little too tidy and hard to believe, which is why it didn’t get an A+.
Why so many failed endings, I wonder? Could it be that authors work so hard to draw the reader in at the beginning, and struggle so hard over the middle (which I have always found the hardest part to write), that they’re worn out by the end?
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