sheepy

The sheep oven glove has emerged from a drawer, back in Cuesta Road, and is now hanging in the kitchen.   Slowly my old totem animals emerge - there are a number of sheep around the house there, and going through airport security today, I was very proud of my socks - bought yesterday in Eldorado's pet store - which have green and red and blue horses galloping over them.   Re-reading New Grub Street for this week's grad class on the plane - I'd remembered it as bleak, but not quite so unremittingly cynical - I was glumly struck by the pragmatically ambitious Jasper Milvain's description of the sort of journalistic writing "in which one makes a column out of what would fill six lines of respectable prose" - which seemed like an all too apt description of someone trying to spin out a description of an oven glove at 1.30 in the NJ morning.