I'm here now—New Hampton edition

I just dropped a table on my big toe, but hey! I got it up fourteen carpeted stairs and am happily typing upon it at last. I have a lil nest all to myself in the woods of New Hampton, New Hampshire. The windows are open wide and I can hear, across the street, the most beautiful song blaring:

I miss home, one week into this new life. But if I had heard this at home it wouldn't have been half as beautiful. Not sure yet why I un-flocked to the place where people are indeed in motion and gentle.

dog-eared quote dump/book reports for recent grads!

"Summer is whizzing by at the rate that my mother's new Vita-Mix processes whole lemons"—the birth of this blog five years ago

So, let's fill it with the lines that sparked a corner-fold! Lest I forget them. It's been quite a nonthinking summer, full of wallowing. I am ready to write again. But first, the better words of others. You should read these books. Booko uno:

Hey hey, Ishiguro's debut novel!

Pg. 67:
"Excuse me, Father, but I must sleep. I have another busy day tomorrow."
Ogata-San looked up at his son, a somewhat surprised expression on his face. "Why, of course. How inconsiderate of me to have kept you up so late." (...) 
Jiro wished his father a good night's sleep and left the room. For a few seconds, Ogata-San gazed at the door through which Jiro had disappeared as if he expected his son to return at any moment. Then he turned to me with a troubled look.
"I didn't realize how late it was," he said. "I didn't mean to keep Jiro up."
Parents and adult children. It really hurts me somehow.

Pg. 49:
"Honestly, Mother, I don't know how you can sit and watch rubbish like that. You hardly used to watch television at all. I remember you used to keep telling me off because I watched it so much."
I laughed. "You see how our roles are reversing, Niki. I'm sure you're very good for me. You must stop me wasting my time away like that."
Again with the parents and their adult children. Strikes a chilly chord.

Pg. 32:
"Well, let me pack you a lunch-box, it won't take a minute."
"Why, thank you, Etsuko. In that case I'll wait a few minutes. In fact, I was hoping you'd offer to pack me lunch."
"Then you should have asked," I said, getting to my feet. "You won't always get what you want just by hinting like that, Father."
"But I knew you'd pick me up correctly, Etsuko. I have faith in you."
Daughters and their fathers-in-law. And the art of "picking one up correctly." Is it universal?

Pg. 89: "Mother, you're always so obsessed with how old people are. It doesn't matter how old someone is, it's what they've experienced that counts. People can get to be a hundred and not experience a thing." 
Just because we seem to be having this debate around the house, all the time. Contestants: my death-defying dad, gracefully-aging mom, and the Confucian-Christian me.

Pg. 115: "Maths sharpens children's minds. You'll find most children good at maths are good at most other things. My husband and I had no disagreement about getting a maths tutor." 
Not sure why I dog-eared this guy—perhaps my existence refutes this. I feel like I ceased to be good at anything since starting physics. But yaknow some days are better.

Pg. 118: [Words of advice to a pregnant lady] "And it's an idea to let the child hear a lot of good music," the woman was saying. "I'm sure it makes a lot of difference. A child should hear good music among his earliest sounds." 
Again, I hope this is where the story—according to nytbookreview—sits squarely and strictly between elegy and irony.

Other summertime reads, all short and sweet and mildly instructive:

Note on the Hemingway: Sheds some light on Jess from Gilmore Girls. Also, contains the following: "For a poet, he threw a very accurate milk bottle."