Nemesis (Philip Roth); a church service; lawn care
Those with an invigorated interest in plague writing (Defoe’s, Camus’s, Tuchman’s, Preston’s, etc.) should not neglect Nemesis by Philip Roth.
J.M. Coetzee’s review is here, as well as in his collection, Late Essays.
Roth, unfortunately, is an author I’ve disliked to read directly. (This is probably my own fault.) Reviews of his books, and of movies based on his books, I’ve found riveting.
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We went to church for the first time in weeks. The service was held out on the blacktop under a bright sun. The temperature was above eighty (Fahrenheit). We sat on plastic chairs and, after a while, someone brought us an umbrella to hold.
Still, I was uncomfortable and had trouble following along. Perhaps this was because Karin & I were wearing masks, and no one else was.
I don’t blame the others much: the risk of contagion seemed minimal out in the open air.
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After the service, we discussed lawn care. One man had brought his groundhog trap for us.
Another man, the one who’d given us our push mower, said he’d been looking at used riding mowers for us. I asked how cheap a riding mower could be. Two hundred, he said.
If he buys one, with or without our permission, I won’t allow him to bear the cost.
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On Friday night, our next-door neighbor, wearing camouflage, came up our driveway in his riding mower and asked if we needed him to cut our grass. No, I said, I cut it every weekend. (I did, in fact, mow the front lawn the next day.) But I could see his point. The grass had been well watered in the six days since its previous cutting: already it looked tall and wild.
Since tomorrow is Memorial Day – and it promises to be less hot – I’m putting off mowing the fenced-in back yard until then. I hope the soldiers won’t mind. It seems that our yard is the business of the nation.
J.M. Coetzee’s review is here, as well as in his collection, Late Essays.
Roth, unfortunately, is an author I’ve disliked to read directly. (This is probably my own fault.) Reviews of his books, and of movies based on his books, I’ve found riveting.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
We went to church for the first time in weeks. The service was held out on the blacktop under a bright sun. The temperature was above eighty (Fahrenheit). We sat on plastic chairs and, after a while, someone brought us an umbrella to hold.
Still, I was uncomfortable and had trouble following along. Perhaps this was because Karin & I were wearing masks, and no one else was.
I don’t blame the others much: the risk of contagion seemed minimal out in the open air.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
After the service, we discussed lawn care. One man had brought his groundhog trap for us.
Another man, the one who’d given us our push mower, said he’d been looking at used riding mowers for us. I asked how cheap a riding mower could be. Two hundred, he said.
If he buys one, with or without our permission, I won’t allow him to bear the cost.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
On Friday night, our next-door neighbor, wearing camouflage, came up our driveway in his riding mower and asked if we needed him to cut our grass. No, I said, I cut it every weekend. (I did, in fact, mow the front lawn the next day.) But I could see his point. The grass had been well watered in the six days since its previous cutting: already it looked tall and wild.
Since tomorrow is Memorial Day – and it promises to be less hot – I’m putting off mowing the fenced-in back yard until then. I hope the soldiers won’t mind. It seems that our yard is the business of the nation.