A Shooting Star

Today I found out that when the Bureau of Meteorology predicts showers, it means precipitation from a cumulus cloud. Nothing to do with length and severity, which is what I thought. Rain is precipitation from a stratiform cloud. The things you learn.

Today I brought out the ladder and looked at the top shelf of my wardrobe. The top shelf! There is stuff up there since my mother bought this house over twenty years ago. Case in point: an ancient weekend travel bag. I dragged that down to add it to the pile of stuff for charity. But what's this? It was full! I opened it with trepidation: three stuffed toys. That must have been how I carried them in all those years ago. I added them to the charity pile.

That was difficult. I am not a huge fan of stuffed toys, but things with eyes looking at me give me the guilts. I couldn't shut them back in the bag, obviously. They might suffocate. So they sat in their bag like an open-topped convertible and I felt terrible. Then my mother came home and said, "Oh, charity shops will love them, Jan buys them in bulk." Her friend Jan is seventy. What does she do with bulk numbers of stuffed toys? "She buys them for the dogs to rip apart." Oh dear lord. This is too much for the nerves. I'll be glad when I get them out of the house tomorrow. (One of them is a koala that has a joey in its pouch. Going to a dog. I'm traumatised just thinking about that.)

October books read

* Do Not Say We Have Nothing - Madeleine Thien (2016) ★ ★ ★ ★
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* All That Man Is - David Szalay (2016) ★ ★ ★
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* Hot Milk - Deborah Levy (2016) ★ ★
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* Many A True Word - Richard Anthony Baker (2013) ★ ★ ★
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