Reading in the Park
7 May 2008
Sigh. Life just keeps going on.
More good weather. It’s getting to be that time of the year. I went to Laurelhurst Park to watch the boys with their shirts off and read a book. I’m getting started on something new. I was skimming an interview in BUTT Magazine recently, and the subject said something along the lines of “that book by Michael Hollinghurst with the rimming scene that won the Booker Prize.” Intrigued, I searched for more about it and discovered that the author, Alan Hollinghurst, aside from the tour de force with the rimming scene, wrote The Swimming Pool Library, which I’ve been meaning to read for, I shit you not, twenty years now. So I checked it out, and started it in the grass in the park on a lovely day.
The Swimming Pool Library
In the evening, I did my gardening. This spring so far, I’ve put in seeds for snow peas, beets, heirloom Chioggia beets, heirloom fennel, basil, marjoram, tobacco, opium poppies, and cosmos. My rhubarb, strawberries, raspberries, irises, daisies, rosemary, thyme, sage, mint, lemon balm, Oregon Myrtle, and assorted other selected weeds and nameless flowers are all back this year in full force.
The 40th purple & green house, on SE 51st Avenue
Today, I made black bean soup (sweet vermouth, Amantiado sherry, and cheap red Italian wine). I took the one millionth walk up Mount Tabor, and found two more purple & green houses, bringing the total so far to 41. After the sun went down, I caught up on episodes of The Office and 30 Rock. My roommates and I passed around files on ipods, and throughout the house, you’d hear laughing as we each sat alone in our rooms at our computers watching the same shows.
Late at night, I downloaded The Klaxons and then mixes by Simian Mobile Disco, both as glossy and shallow as an issue of Vogue. Felt as though I should be doing bumps and dancing with models at The Queen.
For some reason, it has taken days to get Ciao! Manhattan, and it’s not even done yet.
Same ol’ shit. Life just keeps going on, but nothing ever happens.
