For the first time in 6 weeks, I'm able to put my contacts in. They make all the difference not only in my sight, but in eye comfort. Even though I've had them in almost 2 hours this first day, my eyes feel better than without. What joy the seemingly small things -- the abilities we take for granted (like seeing without pain) -- bring. Reminds me to live gratefully.
Which reminds me of Alexander McCall Smith's "The Art of Gratitude". It's a very gentle mystery with philosopher-sleuth Isabel Dalhousie at center stage. I really liked it and its' premise that people are not simple and are rarely what we think. Rings true to me.
I'm also reading G.K. Chesterton's "The Man Who Was Thursday." My only familiarity with Chesterton was the Father Brown mysteries -- delightful reading. I'm discovering that Chesterton was quite a man of letters and quite politically astute. Thursday is one of 7 Brits (named for the days of the week) planning anarchy against France. Will they succeed? My edition is annotated and good thing, it's challenging reading but with the notes quite a romp through philosophy, British history, the geography of London, and the politics of anarchy and the absurd.
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