The weather changed for me on Wednesday. I’m hot, cold, achy, tired,and have no appetite even for cold water.
I’m lying down on a sofa and resume reading Proust’s In Search of Lost Time.I finished Swann’s Way and half of Within a Budding Groove.I listened to the fictional Vinteuil sonata. “The moment when night is falling among the trees,when the arpeggios of the violin call down a cooling dew upon the earth.”
And I’m reading, Hemingway’s A Moveable Feast, again. I alternate reading them for variety.
Music is mixed with the reading. Mendelssohn’s violin concerto and Beethoven’s sonatas.
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