The Sunday Salon – four days to Christmas

Four days to Christmas. 

I have a thick and painful throad, no voice, NO VOICE, except for a raspy sound that does not distinguish between vowels and consonants.  

My Sunday Salon looks miserable even though newspapers are scattered over the floor and the table, and there are some books here and there.  I finished ‘Falling Man’ by Don DeLillo, but felt slightly disappointed.  Perhaps it is my state of mind this week, heading for a cold, mentally tired, and perhaps it has nothing to do with the writing…  I realise that the characters are supposed to be disconnected (this was one of the first ‘post nine eleven’ novels) but it somehow feels as if the writer is talking to himself, more than to me as a reader.  I was unable to connect with them, and towards the end found myself skipping page after page and then just giving up. 

When waking up in the middle of the night two nights ago, drugged by nurofens and yet unable to sleep because of the thick throat, the painful ears, the blocked nose and the feverish head and having gone downstairs to sip a bit of cold applejuice, I picked up Kate Mosse’s Sepulchre which was on one of the bookshelves, and sat and read the first chapter and then another one. Later, having slept a bit more I read a few more chapters and fell asleep again.  So now I’m on a mission to finish the book and it is easy reading, nevertheless a good story, slightly more believable (so far) than the Da Vinci Code.  It’s all I am capable of taking in at the moment: a good and well-written story that is not too demanding.

The house is filling up with lovely and beloved guests, there is one more working day (how am I going to take part in an hour-long teleconference when I have no voice?) , granddaughter is excited that this father christmas is  dropping little presents down the chimney on a nightly basis, a book, a puzzle, a clouring book.  She is completely tickled by the story of the tiger who came to tea (by Judith Kerr) , read to her in English  and commented on by her in German,  ja doch!, while she laughs out loud.  Life can be so simple – and a little book, with lovely pictures, so enjoyable.

 

I wish you all a very merry christmas, happy reading (and writing) and hope to be around again by the end of the week, maybe even before if I find some spare time, which is unlikely.

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