persephone rises
Spring cleaning. I don't know what that residue in the sink was, but I got rid of it. You sweep all the accumulated cat hair around here, you have enough to make another cat. A very light, fluffy cat who will waft away on the April breeze.
Haven't had much to say on books lately for the simple reason that I've had no time to read fiction; I'm still finishing up all the extant nonfiction on Guatemala that I could find. The weirdest thing is the American view in the early eighties—I guess it's a result of growing up in the nineties that Communism as a historical force seems so laughable. I'm continually taken aback at how terrified everyone was of Central America going Communist. And then you get Reagan's occasional quotes; flying back from his Central America trip, he tells a reporter how fascinating the visit was. "You'd be amazed," he says, "they're all separate countries." For the next couple days everyone scrambles to figure out whether Reagan had known this before the trip.
Given my general take on picture shows from California, I'm not sure why I find those Flash ads for The Day After Tomorrow so exciting. I think it was hearing about the scene where the American government has to beg Mexico to accept all the refugees fleeing south—that's just rich. Don't know if I'll go so far as to see the movie, though.
No sign of an ice age here. Breezy and blue, with birds. Beneficient birds. I'll bounce off for a beverage, and belles lettres.
