Woodside Villa, July 14 1885.
Dot introduced me to a new day at 5.30 am. Arose — toileted quickly — breakfasted — then went from boat to street car — asked colored gentleman, how long before car left — worked his articulating apparatus so weakly I didn’t hear word he said. — it’s nice to be a little deaf when travelling you can ask everybody directions then pump your imagination for the answer, it strengthens this faculty. —
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Downtown Owl, Klosterman. Yes. In discussing this book with my librarian, I learned that a more recent reading of 1984, and paying more attention, would have let me notice some things that Klosterman was doing. Noticing them might even not have annoyed me.
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Take a moment from your life to enjoy “Kidney Thieves”
Kidney Thieves from Toby Wilkins on Vimeo.
In the midst of reading What the World Eats, and already I have learned about many foods I had never before heard of. Two interesting ones so far: Mitani Chicken Salt and Corn Soy Blend.
In which teens are still being dopey, no one loses a limb, and adults react badly.
The children didn’t light the candy. They crushed it into a fine powder in its wrapper, tore off one end, poured the powder into their mouths and blew out fine Smarties dust, mimicking a smoker’s exhale.
The LEAST panicky adult:
Dr. Shikowitz says Smarties may cause irritation to throats and noses — and even lungs if inhaled — but are not likely life-threatening because they eventually will dissolve. “I still don’t think it’s a great idea,” he says.
In Defense of Food: An Eater’s Manifesto, Pollan. Non-fiction. This is an expansion of Pollan’s essay “Unhappy Meals” (which I talked about some time ago), in which he gives some reasoning that I find rather compelling for why we’re in the diet/health mess that we (the western world in general, but especially Americans) are in, and some suggestions for getting out of it. The latter are summarized (as in his earlier essay) as “Eat Food. Not too much. Mostly plants.”
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I think I’m just going to admit defeat on these two professional development books. I suspect part of my downfall is that they’re probably more intended as reference works than reading material.
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There was a small boy in the library lobby, crying. I went out there to speak soothingly to him and make sure he wasn’t hurt. His mom arrived moments later and picked him up, revealing a big puddle underneath. He had wet his pants. But for a split second I thought “Wow, he really cried a LOT!”