Call 911, we got therapy demands

[sovay]

This afternoon I dropped my grandfather's flat cap off at Salmagundi in Jamaica Plain for repair. The proprietor expects to be able to patch it and replace the reinforcement inside the upper portion of cloth, which turns out not to be the same as the visor. It dates from the 1950's and was made by one particular company in New Jersey, although my grandfather could have bought it anywhere. I should get it back in two to three weeks. In the meantime I have no hat and it is very disorienting, not to mention—in the current weather—cold. I will have to figure out something. My broad-brimmed straw hat of the last eight years finally gave up the ghost last winter when Autolycus used it as a bed. There was no way for the duct tape to survive that much fur.

(I had a nice time walking around Centre Street with derspatchel. We will have to come back for the bookstore on Green Street some non-Sunday when it doesn't close at six o'clock.)

In the meantime, I have learned the reason that sharp flashes of pain have been startling up my left arm from the elbow at frequent intervals since I woke up on Friday: I have somehow strained or inflamed the biceps tendon. I am back to my old friend Ace bandage and regular application of cold and heat. I keep finding parts of my body I didn't know I could break. I have new books, though, and I don't need two working elbows to read them.

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[nineweaving.livejournal.com]

New books? Do tell!

Nine

[sovay]

New books? Do tell!

From earlier this week, Patrick Leigh Fermor's Kidnapping a General: The Kriepe Operation in Crete (2013) and M.T. Anderson's Symphony for the City of the Dead: Dmitri Shostakovich and the Siege of Leningrad (2015); from Raven Used Books this afternoon, Noralee Frankel's Stripping Gypsy: The Life of Gypsy Rose Lee (2010). They are holding two more books for me while I try to figure out if I can come up with the money after paying up front for the hat repair (and then dinner out with derspatchel, which I do not regret; I had goat). One is a recent collection of essays on Benjamin Britten, the other the first book-length survey I've seen of Jewish Entartete Musik.