![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
capri0mniBut it was chilly, and the cats were hovering around the door, so I couldn't open it wide with confidence, lest they scoot outside. So I decided to let Audrey bring the box in when she arrived, and she did.
I read the Inaugural Poem first; it's in its own, little, pocket-sized volume (literally: it could slip easily into a dee[ interior coat pocket-- it's maybe just a bit bigger than a passport book), bound in very heavy weight navy blue paper. Reading it with the proper line breaks and stanza breaks is certainly better than reading it via an automatic transcription service that wouldn't know the content of a poem from a report from a police scanner.
I have also read the Introduction and am working through the first pages of Chapter One of Frontiers of Justice. I have what looks to be a good book with a meaty and thoughtful subject. What I do not have is a cozy place in good light where I can put my feet up while I read it. This is the kind of book where, I think, you need to put your feet up while you read it. I may have to make sure to be well enough up in the morning, so I can reserve time to read it when the sun is shining through my "library" window, where I've put the bench built by my late, crazy, Great-Uncle Don (who often spent much of the summer in the nude, and could talk more easily to dogs than he could to humans, but he built some beautiful furniture).
...It may also help if I cleaned the smudges off my glasses.
I read the Inaugural Poem first; it's in its own, little, pocket-sized volume (literally: it could slip easily into a dee[ interior coat pocket-- it's maybe just a bit bigger than a passport book), bound in very heavy weight navy blue paper. Reading it with the proper line breaks and stanza breaks is certainly better than reading it via an automatic transcription service that wouldn't know the content of a poem from a report from a police scanner.
I have also read the Introduction and am working through the first pages of Chapter One of Frontiers of Justice. I have what looks to be a good book with a meaty and thoughtful subject. What I do not have is a cozy place in good light where I can put my feet up while I read it. This is the kind of book where, I think, you need to put your feet up while you read it. I may have to make sure to be well enough up in the morning, so I can reserve time to read it when the sun is shining through my "library" window, where I've put the bench built by my late, crazy, Great-Uncle Don (who often spent much of the summer in the nude, and could talk more easily to dogs than he could to humans, but he built some beautiful furniture).
...It may also help if I cleaned the smudges off my glasses.
