P&PS

I've been wanting to play some more with typography, so I started out with this: and ended up, as of right now, with a rough sketch of a poster:  "Reading and writing are in themselves subversive acts.  What they subvert is the notion that things have to be the way that they are, that you are alone, that no one has ever felt the way you have."  It started out something like  The other quote from Armageddon  I loved (also from Mark's speech about his father) is "[Marx] did invent Communism, which we have been taught to hate, because we are so in love with Capitalism, which is what we call the casinos on Wall Street."

I had one of those odd moments today when I had to stop and wonder if life imitated art or if it was the other way around or more likely just one huge coincidence meant to mess with my head. I had a guy twice my age ask me out today after spending the last twenty minutes trying to decide how I felt about Valentina/Robert and Martin/Julia ( Her Fearful Symmetry ).  The latter of which I decided I was ok with, and the former which I decided I preferred but found Robert's view of Valentina as a "child"/childlike unsettled me.  I had this whole post planned out to try and sort through it further and then a middle aged man, having just met me and knowing nothing about me, asked me out; I look like I'm 17.  I was confused when this happened.  I'm still confused. Regardless, I'm hoping the book ends more scandalously than expected.  Ninety two pages left and only an hour until bed

tea. warm weather. sunshine. sleep. bricks. shiny words. libraries. lunch breaks. felt tip pens. fridays.

The first line of The Farmworker's Daughter ... I was going to do a review of the book but there's not much to say about it: I liked it, the stories were intriguing, the shifting POV was sometimes confusing, but it was a good, quick read.  The quote does a better job of capturing the essence of the book than I ever could and it fits with the nostalgia I've been feeling lately.  Winter's settling in and I'm missing things: people, places, green grass.

Dog Days: Dispatches from Bedlam Farm by Jon Katz "She did have one regular visitor, though, Maria later reported.  Mother [the cat], delighted to have company at night, often dropped by, knocked a bit of yarn about, and napped in the old leather chair before resuming her lethal prowl." I feel as if I had heard about Jon Katz a couple of years ago in reference to (semi)local authors, or farm owners, but that may be wishful thinking.  I'm always saying I like supporting local artists, local farms and businesses, but when it comes to writers, it's more of a theory than a practice. The disparity between the two states, however, has eased a bit in recent years due to Cold Antler Farm a blog run by Jenna Woginrich.  I started reading Jenna's blog when she lived in Tennessee, and followed her move to Eastern New York with delight.  In the beginning, I read mainly for the stories of her struggles and triumphs, the details of life on a farm, but as she put d