Sunday, January 30, 2005

Rocks make definite criticisms.

Ten past Eleven in the morning



Happy Birthday to my wife!!!!

This morning she woke up to something on the bedstand wrapped in tissue......

A new and wonderful translation of Don Quixote- by Edith Grossman! Last year at this time it was published in hardcover form. She saw it on the bookshelf and thought that it gets the peotic sense of the original well. I couldn't resist *grin*.

Yesterday, as a birthday prelude and something everyone should do anyway, we went and saw an exhibition of Petra ruins at the Cincinnati Arts Museum. The work done in that city is/was phenominal; much of it surprisingly practical.

Well, my happy better half is talking to her family; describing to them the weekend etc. She mentioned to them and reminded me of the funny idiosicracies of the critic who wrote the forward to This particular Don Quixote, Harold Bloom. Namely that he seems overly fond of the play Hamlet. Strange- but looking at the Wikipedea entry, Hamlet is barely mentioned. I'd suggest that this would mean that my wife's mistaken, but for the repitition of Hamlet references throughout the introduction to Don Quixote for comparison.

I shouldn't worry oo much, the book itself is wonderful and will finally give me the chance to read it (in spanish in the future).



I need to sleep more and stay at work less :P and sit down and think more often. The household has been full of colds lately and this has made life a bit more challenging- thank the gods for pre-prepared foods!! Canned soupe is a godsend!!!!!

*yawn* *cough*