Plotjuggling

Tea: Vanilla Lapsang

Music: Switchfoot, "Gone"

Time: Night.

I go through periods, periodically, where I find myself immersed in more than one book at once.

Come tomorrow, I may be up to three. By the end of the week, it could be four.

The other day, I misplaced my copy of Good Omens by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman. (It went missing at a critical time in the plot, too. Frustrating.) So I picked up John Knowles' A Separate Peace, which two of the kids have already read and which I started a few weeks back but had let lapse.

Finished Knowles. Still no sign of Pratchett/Gaiman. So I started in on Christopher Moore's A Dirty Job (yep, one of the Barnes and Noble Christmas books). It's utterly engrossing (see also hilarious, touching, menacing and brilliantly written) -- so, of course, once Moore had his latest hook in me, Good Omens turned up.

At about the same time, I found another mislaid book: Darryl Tippens' Pilgrim Heart: The Way of Jesus in Everyday Life, which was loaned to me by a friend. I need to read and return it. So it could wind up going on tomorrow's church trip with me.

I also want to return to a long-distance shared reading of Diane Ackerman's A Natural History of the Senses, which likely will resume on New Year's Day. There will be, of course, some rereading required to catch up.

I tell people "Words are my life." This verges on the ridiculous ... but it's a pretty good sort of ridiculous.

Same Store, Different Tastes.

Tea: Matcha.

Music: Sweet, "Ballroom Blitz"

Time: Night.

Family outing to Barnes and Noble today, to spend the Christmas gift cards.

I wound up with Christopher Moore's "A Dirty Job" (Yes, I've turned into a Moore junkie.) and C.S. Lewis' "Till We Have Faces." (I still have more card to redeem. They weren't that expensive.

The 17-year-old got three classics, and won't let me tell you what they are.

("There's this thing called privacy," she called over her shoulder as she headed to bed.)

The 16-year-old picked up "The Spiritual Brain: A Neuroscientist's Case for the Existence of the Soul," by Mario Beauregard and Denyse O'Leary.

The 14-year-old got music. (And no, I didn't browbeat her to get words. The card was hers, to do with as she pleased.)

It's more than interesting, seeing them develop their own tastes as they grow. There are influences, of course -- from teachers, from peers, from travel companions and (occasionally) from their parents. But none of them is a carbon copy of anyone -- and that's a good thing.