Howards End (the book)

Emelec beat Delfín to win the Ecuadorian championship. Barcelona failed to qualify for next year’s Copa Libertadores.

The Oakland Raiders, whom I’ve been casually following this season, came within inches of scoring the touchdown that would’ve kept their playoff hopes alive. Rather than score, they did this.

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The good news is that my health is much restored. My cold lingers but no longer pains me. I’ve been resting at home, drinking water and tea and dosing myself with Mucinex.

Karin, who’s been tending to me, is a little sicker now.

Last Friday night, we went to a birthday party for my dear grandpa (his ninetieth).

Today, the air was rather warm, and I walked for half an hour by the river. I wore a coat that one of my fellow tutors gave to me on the last day of the term.

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My newest reading project is Howards End by E.M. Forster. This is the book of the Wilcoxes vs. the Schlegels: the materialistic English vs. the romantic “German” English. The book also depicts a few representatives of the hapless English poor, whose role is to be the grass trampled upon by the two warring upper-class factions.