In the End was the Word

I was so taken with Civilisations that I’ve been waiting for an opportunity to indulge in an earlier novel by Laurent Binet. Doing it this way round made a lot of sense, because I do not think I would have persevered if I had not already had a taste of Binet’s brilliance.

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Hooded crows are common round here and very entertaining. I took to offering them bits of old cheese, apple cores and the like, eventually settling on peanuts in their shell because they are inexpensive and handy. If the birds are hanging around, they come as soon as they see me raise my arm. If they’re some place else, it may take a while for them to latch onto the treat. Over the weeks, they have definitely become more relaxed in my presence.

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It was a toss-up between working on something a little more substantive or documenting February, and the more mechanical option won.

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The clocks sprang forward Sunday last, putting an end to the delicious three weeks or so in which we here are an hour closer to our friends in the United States. My only reaction, as I wake up nominally later on Sunday morning, is to cheer loudly for the extra hour of light at the end of the day. And yet, for the past three weeks, as every year, my socials have been full of people wailing like banshees. On both sides of the fence.

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A friend was bemoaning the fact that he would shortly be forced to work only from home and replied thoughtfully to my challenge to blog his reasons: Why I Hate Working From Home. I have to say, most of Larry’s reasons resonated for me, because I generally love working from home, even though I barely do any paying work these days. I am sure that under his constraints, I would hate it too.

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