Oh my goodness. One of our Christmas cactuses (cacti?) has buds on it. I’d share a picture but that particular plant looks rather pathetic. I don’t know how it manages to grow a bud, let alone have that bud end up actually opening up into a flower. It seems much too early for a blooming Christmas cactus, or, quite frankly, Christmas anything. My opinion on this subject apparently doesn’t matter, as the stores have already started displaying their holiday merchandise. (Does anyone actually need Christmas decorations in mid-October? Perhaps I’m just a Christmas Scrooge. Tree goes up around Thanksgiving, comes down on December 26. Approximately one month of holiday cheer is quite enough! Besides, any longer and I’d have to dust the ornaments.)
My parents (who live slightly south, by maybe 10 miles or so) claim to have seen some snowflakes yesterday. No. Just no. I refuse to accept that fall (weather wise, if not calendar wise) is coming to an end. The snow needs to hold out in our neighborhood for just a while longer. At least until November 8. Then I’ll win the “When will it snow?” bet.
In an effort to actually reach my 100 book goal this year, I checked out a couple of short, quick books from the library. You never know quite what you’ll get with these books, chosen for their thinness rather than the picture on the cover or the blurb on the dust jacket.
Finish #67 is The Old Man Who Read Love Stories by Luis Sepulveda. I was pleasantly surprised by this story. The most fascinating aspect of this story was how it pointed out that something which seems completely normal in one culture might be thought of in a completely different way in another culture. For example, in the story the old man lives in a village where kissing is not something that is done. When he reads in a love story about a man kissing a woman, he believes that the man must be a villain.
There are other interesting aspects to the story, such as the character of the “Mayor”- a classic bad guy politician that no one seems to like, the ocelot that stalks the village and must be dealt with, and how the old man became interested in love stories and ended up being the person who must do something about the ocelot.