Drive your plow over the bones of the dead
Scant rain has fallen the last two weeks. Large sections of the lawn have become tawny.
My neighbors water their grass. I am averse to doing this, as it encourages grass to grow, which makes for more frequent mowing.
Yesterday, I sheared the back lawn down to its nubs.
The lawn already was rather short. On this occasion, such a small length was cut off the top, I didn’t have to rake any of it into piles.
This is exactly the situation I aspire to, as far as the lawn is concerned.
Tonight there is rain and thunder. I am out on the back porch with Samuel, Jasper, and Ziva. Ziva, especially, is fond of the porch. When I go back inside the house, I have to lure her with treats.
The book I am reading – Drive Your Plow Over the Bones of the Dead – is by Olga Tokarczuk, of Poland, a recent Nobel Prize winner.
In this book, villagers keep popping off, slasher-movie style. The narrator, a semiretired schoolteacher and estate caretaker, suspects that the perpetrators are Animals (she capitalizes a good many common nouns, to charming effect). In particular, she suspects the Deer, who are often poached. She alleges that their motive for committing these Murders is Revenge. (I am reminded of M. Night Shyamalan’s movie, The Happening.)
The narrator has hobbies. She translates the poetry of William Blake. She is a firm believer in Astrology. She writes letters to the Police, explaining to them who has been committing the Murders.
She is eccentric but quite self-aware, and her narration is matter-of-fact. This makes the book very funny.
Also, the book is short. And yet I’ve been reading it since before the libraries closed for the pandemic. I’m forcing myself to finish it by Friday, which is the final due date after several renewals.
I find myself wondering how the narrator would judge me. I’d like to come out well, by her lights. She’s quite a humane person. I eat meat, which perhaps she’d not condemn absolutely (it’s the Order of this poorly designed Universe that some Creatures must survive by eating Others).
The narrator also despises Lawn Mowing.
My neighbors water their grass. I am averse to doing this, as it encourages grass to grow, which makes for more frequent mowing.
Yesterday, I sheared the back lawn down to its nubs.
The lawn already was rather short. On this occasion, such a small length was cut off the top, I didn’t have to rake any of it into piles.
This is exactly the situation I aspire to, as far as the lawn is concerned.
Tonight there is rain and thunder. I am out on the back porch with Samuel, Jasper, and Ziva. Ziva, especially, is fond of the porch. When I go back inside the house, I have to lure her with treats.
The book I am reading – Drive Your Plow Over the Bones of the Dead – is by Olga Tokarczuk, of Poland, a recent Nobel Prize winner.
In this book, villagers keep popping off, slasher-movie style. The narrator, a semiretired schoolteacher and estate caretaker, suspects that the perpetrators are Animals (she capitalizes a good many common nouns, to charming effect). In particular, she suspects the Deer, who are often poached. She alleges that their motive for committing these Murders is Revenge. (I am reminded of M. Night Shyamalan’s movie, The Happening.)
The narrator has hobbies. She translates the poetry of William Blake. She is a firm believer in Astrology. She writes letters to the Police, explaining to them who has been committing the Murders.
She is eccentric but quite self-aware, and her narration is matter-of-fact. This makes the book very funny.
Also, the book is short. And yet I’ve been reading it since before the libraries closed for the pandemic. I’m forcing myself to finish it by Friday, which is the final due date after several renewals.
I find myself wondering how the narrator would judge me. I’d like to come out well, by her lights. She’s quite a humane person. I eat meat, which perhaps she’d not condemn absolutely (it’s the Order of this poorly designed Universe that some Creatures must survive by eating Others).
The narrator also despises Lawn Mowing.