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12 March 2011

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Reading, having time to read, the book carried around in hand and read to pass time waiting, to just get to the end of this chapter, when you can't sleep: I used to take this all for granted.

The following is from John Cheever's Wapshot Chronicles; Leander Wapshot writes in his journal.

"Writer’s epistolary style (Leander wrote) formed in tradition of Lord Timothy Dexter, who put all punctuation marks, prepositions, adverbs, articles, etc., at the end of communication and urged reader to distribute same as he saw fit. West Farm. Autumn day. 3 p.m. Nice sailing breeze from NW quarter. Golden light. Glittering riffle on water. Hornets on ceiling. An old house. Roofs of St. Botolphs in the distance. Old river-bottom burg today. Family prominent there once. Name memorialized in many things in vicinity; lakes, roads, hills even. Wapshot Avenue now back street in honkytonk beach resort further south. Smell of hotdogs, popcorn, also salt air and grinding music from old merry-go-round calliope. Matchwood cottages for rent by day, week or season. Such a street named after a forebear who rode spar in Java sea for three days, kicking at sharks with bare feet."

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