None But Eagles

The temperatures for tomorrow are set to reach as high as they ever can this far north, and we’ve been warned to keep the lights low and not to hog all the air-conditioning. It will be the kind of summer day that I used to spend reading Laura Ingalls Wilder’s The Long Winter. The heat and humidity in my upstairs bedroom would be suffocating, had I been paying attention, but I would be huddled under a duvet reading about Pa and Laura twisting hay in the lean-to, my hands aching. But without a copy of The Long Winter at hand, I’ve started Mason & Dixon by Thomas Pynchon instead, which starts with a lovely chill description of Christmastide of 1786. Here’s hoping it’ll be enough to get me through tomorrow’s humidity.

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4. fireland said: For some reason that’s the only Pynchon novel I’ve ever finished. I know! Believe me I feel worse than you do!
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