I’ve become a slow reader.
I’m still reading Ulysses. I reached the half-way point today. Half. Way.
I blame the rest of my life. By heck, time was, could read t’work of classic literature in a half-week, me, and keep up with t’journals, newspapers, television, all that like, and play sixteen games of that solitaire at once, no peeking, and dig up my meals from t’garden me mam grew in the basement of the neighbour’s house, and milk the hedgehogs four times a day, and be tucked up in bed before sunset, with t’hedgehogs, they like that, and then still have time for a comic book before lights out.
Damn great book though.
Also: Cal and I went away for the weekend. It was nice.