“When I get a little money, I buy books; and if any is left, I buy food and clothes.”
Well, the warm weather lasted about five minutes before I scurried back under three layers of clothes and the poor souls in shorts and flip-flops started shivering all over again. You’d think they might pull on toe-socks or something, but no. It’s spring in Halifax. Time for shorts and flip-flops. And shivering.
The damp chill brings to mind (and use) three of my favourite things:
1. Pyjamas straight from the drier, my idea of warm heaven and induces a rare, but pleasant state of shock.
2. Tucking my feet under the hot water bottle while reading a good book, still in a pleasant state of shock from #1.
3. Reading a good book with my feet tucked under the hot water bottle and, yes, still in a pleasant state of shock from #1.
This week I’m reading Alligator, Lisa Moore’s new novel set in St John’s. I’m absorbing Moore’s quirky Newfoundland sensibility, the anger-fuelled pace of the story, the fragility and strength of the different characters. Her word choices are always spot-on.
I’m also reading (and re-reading) The Remarkable Farkle McBride, by John Lithgow, which I picked up for a little friend who lives far away. I hope to see him this summer so I can give it to him, but meanwhile I’m revelling in Lithgow’s rhythms and rhymes, which fairly dance off the tongue – trust a thespian to come up with a great read-aloud children’s book (yes, it’s that John Lithgow) – and CF Payne’s stunning illustrations. I’ve never seen an orchestra so beautifully depicted. I defy anyone who says they can read this one in silence and turn the pages in a hurry.
(Really I bought it for myself, and will have a hard time handing it over to my little friend. When the time comes, I must be strong, but in the meantime I’ll just concentrate on staying warm.)