It's been too noisy or hot or humid or sunny or cold or rainy to use the terrace, but yesterday evening was none of those things, so I brought out the chair. I realized reading light would be better with the sun behind me, and then turned back around to face west when it got dark. I continued to read with my clip-on light or reclined just looking at the view. Planes flew northward regularly, possibly taking off from Newark or coming in to LaGuardia. I can't believe I didn't take advantage of this all these years.
I read "True Love" by Herbert Gold, a slightly more literary novel than usual. Watkins is a middle-aged lawyer and adjunct professor at UC Davis who lives in his head as he pursues ultimately empty relationships. I hated every minute of it.
My mother called yesterday afternoon to tell me my great-aunt called her to tell her to turn on Oprah NOW because it was about crosswords. I assured her it was a rerun.