|Sometimes I wish I had a sofa on the porch!|
For years, the only place I've been able to read more than a paragraph of text at a time is in bed. With all my neck issues, it's the only place I can hold a book, because I can prop my arms up on pillows and the book as well.
Last night I came upon this gem.
"Dulce et utile," is what Horace says literature is: sweet and useful.
Whenever I read stuff like this, my heart gets excited and ideas take shape. I decide I want to study more, deeper. And then I have the following fantasy sequence.
Maybe I should take a class.
Maybe we'll get trapped in the house for weeks on end with no access to media and the only thing to do will be to read all those shelves of unread books.
Maybe I should start a book group.
I jot this stuff down on the memo pad by my bed and go to sleep knowing none of this would happen.