SNOW DAYS! We got about 8-10 inches of snow here on Wed. night and Thursday. Everybody's off work. I actually was hoping to get back to work a bit more. My wife is enjoying it though.


Perhaps some who are familiar with my reading habits know that I won't start a new book until I've finished one. I keep three books going at any given time: one fiction, one non-fiction, and one of either to keep in my car for travels (lunch stops, etc.). I only make exceptions for two reasons. Either there is some urgency to get done with a book (it's borrowed or something), or I just find the book unreadable. I invoked the second exception yesterday. I read the first hundred pages of Jurgen Moltmann's Theology of Hope, and I'm still not convinced it was actually translated into English. Either that or the subject matter was unable to penetrate my thick skull.

More on my level is The Man Who was Chesterton, a collection of essays, excerpts, short stories and poems. Here's a "taste" ;)

CHEESE

My forthcoming work in five volumes, "The Neglect of Cheese in European Literature," is a work of such unprecednted and laborious detail that it is doubtful if I shall live to finish it. . . . Virgil, if I remember right, refers to it several times, but with too much Roman restraint. He does not let himself go on cheese. The only other poet I can think of just now who seems to have had some sensibility on the point was the nameless author of the nursery rhyme which says: "If all the trees were bread and cheese" --which is, indeed, a rich and gigantic vision of the higher gluttony. If all the trees were bread and cheese there would be considerable deforestation on any part of England where I was living...