Hole to Hole

Based on contextual evidence from my precious, precious diary, I must have gone back to Square Books on January 4th. I know this because I had lunch with Tom Franklin that day, and I never go to the square without making some time for the bookstore. I also have noted in my diary that a young person stopped me to take my photograph that day because he liked the hat that Katie made for me. And I remember being on the sidewalk at that moment, headed for Square Books. But that is not what I want to tell you about. But it is a pretty nice hat. Anyway, it must have been on January 4th - though the diary does not explicitly state as much - that I picked up RAMAYANA, the adaptation by William Buck. I did so because when I saw it, I recalled the high esteem in which Lee Durkee holds William Buck. My diary goes on to tell me that I finally began reading the book early in our week of being snowed in. But what I've been saving just for you is that last night I read the part where Rama is (spoiler alert!) exiled from the city, and his chariot driver predicts that as a result "these broad ways will be the paths where wild cats and owls roam. Rats will crawl and cunning snakes will slither from hole to hole." If you ask me, the cats and owls should take care of the rats and snakes, but what do I know? In conclusion, I was once again given to wonder why every book has an owl in it, as you can see for yourself by "clicking" here. In further conclusion, allow me to share a fascinating detail not included in the diary: the young person took my photo not with his phone, but with a clunky old-time camera such as Jimmy Olsen might have used.

Dicey

In our neighborhood, last week's snow still sticks stubbornly to the ground, and I am not permitted to walk down our steep driveway to the mailbox, but Dr. Theresa somehow made it to the grocery store and back, despite road conditions that were - to use her own word in a texted response to an inquiry on the subject from Ace Atkins - "dicey." Dicey and icy, I would add here, to the amusement of one and all. I was in a meeting for Season 2 of ADVENTURE TIME: FIONNA AND CAKE when Dr. Theresa left the house, heedlessly embracing danger, and therefore found myself powerless to stop her! Anyway, given the obligations of the "blog," I knew I should mention that we are no longer snowed in, or so it would seem.

Yes

Some of you, if you exist, may be asking, "Are you still snowed in?" The answer is yes, since Sunday. Ace, however, managed to get his truck out of the neighborhood yesterday, and he brought us back enough chicken thighs to feed an army.

Reason

For no reason, here is a picture of Pen and me at Doris Day's favorite French restaurant. Photo by Megan Abbott! Well, I thought of a reason: I quit social media, but maybe part of my brain doesn't understand that. Because this is the sort of thing that would wind up on social media. Speaking of which! Remember when I quit "blogging"? Well, I think there was a time when I really did. And I'll tell you what I mean. I poked around to see whether I had ever mentioned this restaurant before, and to my shock, it turns out that I didn't report my November 2019 trip to Los Angeles (when the above photo was taken) AT ALL! Usually, I will give you a little something from my wee little jotting book in the way of travel notes that no one reads. But nope! This trip was almost lost to history. Which would have been fine, honestly. But we're snowed in and I have nothing to do.

Dear Diary

Did you know I keep a handwritten diary, just like Brian Cox and Lord Wariston? Diaries are the original "blog." Diaries are the original TikTok! Diaries were a TikTok you could damn well keep to yourself. Pardon my salty language! And my inaccurate understanding of what TikTok is. Anyway, my diary is how I know that it was New Year's Eve when Dr. Theresa and I went to Square Books and I, uncharacteristically, could not find anything I wanted to drop my money on. Dr. Theresa, however, came away with three juicy mystery novels, one of which I idly picked up and really got into. Now we are entering territory that was not explored in the diary. Exclusive content! So I was like, "This book is called MAGPIE MURDERS. It is really heavy on the magpies! There are magpies everywhere you look in this thing. There is NO WAY this author is going to give me magpies AND owls!" ("Click" here to begin a years-long journey that will slowly and poorly deepen your knowledge of my interest in the matter.) Anyway, last night we were reading in bed as outside the snow was falling on the ground and I was suddenly presented with this fact by the narrator of MAGPIE MURDERS: "A nineteenth-century naturalist named Thomas Blakiston had an owl named after him."

I Didn't Know

Yesterday, Dr. Theresa and I were watching the movie I, FRANKENSTEIN for reasons your frail human mind could never understand, and neither could ours. The following may contain at least one spoiler for the movie I, FRANKENSTEIN, which came out 10 years ago, though it feels like it came out 200 years ago, in a different universe. Anyway! At one point, a skeptical modern-day scientist gets hold of Dr. Frankenstein's notebook, and opens it, and says with delight, "Oh! He used electric eels!" Because before that, she didn't believe Dr. Frankenstein would have access to electricity. Now that she has read about the electric eels, she believes in Dr. Frankenstein, like he's Santa Claus! Well, that caused me to ask Dr. Theresa aloud, "What's the deal with electric eels anyway?" Before she could answer, I screamed in excitement, "Oh, yeah! I have a whole book about electric eels!" (See also.) I was referring, of course, to ELECTRIC EEL CALLING, lavishly illustrated by its author. Off I scampered to the bookshelf, which happened to be in the very room where we were watching I, FRANKENSTEIN, to retrieve my copy of ELECTRIC EEL CALLING. It was published in 1941, and I acquired it circa 2009, and I finally had a reason to open it. One thing I read was the author's contention that the people of South America were "the first humans in all the world to find [electricity] in a palpable form, and although the Egyptians are credited with the earliest observation of electric fish (the electric catfish of the Nile)"... wait! Let's just stop the sentence right there. I interrupted I, FRANKENSTEIN to yell towards Dr. Theresa all manner of questions about the electric catfish, such as, did she know about it? She lived in Egypt for a number of years. I, myself, had reached the age of 60 (I started this "blog" as a wee, apple-cheeked lad of only 43... my God! What a nightmare), and had just discovered, for the first time, in this old book, the existence of the electric catfish of the Nile, which I assume everyone else reading this (there is no one reading this) knew about already. I'm always late to the party. However, due to my strict policy of "blogging" about things that remind me of other things I have "blogged" about before, I thought I should publicly acknowledge these electric catfish, as the catfish of ancient Egypt have previously appeared in this space, though I was shamefully ignorant at the time of their electrical talents. In conclusion, if you do not "click" on the "links," you are really missing the point of the "blog," which is nothing less than a vast, oddly constructed historical novel meant to be read Julio Cortazar style! That's what I'm telling myself these days.

On the Coffee Table

Our old house didn't have a coffee table but our new one (is it still new?) does. Most often, I sit in my favorite chair, which does not have direct access to the coffee table. But yesterday, I was on the couch, and I reached down and picked up a "coffee table book" - to be precise, a book of photographs by the artist who called herself "Madame Yevonde." Well, it so turns out that one of Madame Yevonde's models was all done up as Minerva, in a shiny metal hat and holding a menacing revolver, and you know what that means! Yes, an owl was sitting there with her, like, "What's up?" Make it YOUR new year's resolution to figure out why I tell you every time I read a book with an owl in it.