Crushability

When I said yesterday that I didn't have anything to read, that was most certainly not at all true. I have hundreds, if not thousands, of books at home, many of which I haven't read, many of which I have read, but wouldn't remember well enough to know if I read them again. What I meant was, I wasn't currently reading anything, and there was nothing that was grabbing me at the moment.

I think it's the letdown after finishing an entire series of books--I just read the last of the Harlan Coben Myron Bolitar series and enjoyed it immensely (not actually the last in the series, but the last one I read)--with nothing in particular to immediately take its place. In the car, I'm listening to an old John Sandford novel--Night Prey, which I'm sure I read years ago when it first came out, but which I don't remember at all, which is great.

I get into moods, or themes maybe, with reading, and like to stick to the same kinds of things for awhile. I have several fantasy novels at home in the to-be-read stack, but they're just not interesting me right now. I'm in more of a hard-boiled mood. I just remembered that I have a copy of John Grisham's The Client that I bought a few weeks back and haven't read; maybe I'll read that one.

I was looking through my jewelry box this morning and pulled out a gold puffed heart necklace to wear--it seemed appropriate for the week. Every time I wear it I remember when I first bought it, years ago. I was really into gold jewelry at one time, and bought a lot of charms and bracelets and earrings (Bob buys all my jewelry now), and I and a friend bought the same gold puffed heart charm. Shortly thereafter, she was putting some clothes into the dryer, and was wearing the necklace, and it swung into the door of the dryer and she slammed the door on it, crushing it. Every time I wear mine, I'm always cognizant of its crushability.