9 Ramadhan, 1438
Another shameless day of glorious wallowing in the remarkable fact that I didn't have anything urgent to do. I proceeded to do nothing with great efficiency, eating up great chunks of the day in deep, deep naps.
Aside from that, I read about half of the first novel in the Rebus series by Ian Rankin and a fair slab of Christopher Ricks's Milton's Grand Style. The latter is part of a conscious effort to do reasonable justice to works of genuine merit in the world of lit crit, being my follow up to Moody's very fine Pound bio; the former is the contrasting roughage in my reading diet, a choice somewhat inspired by our Edinburgh jaunt of December. Rankin's stuff was understandably prominent in the bookshops there and since he's so highly rated in critical terms it struck me as positively churlish that I've never paid him any real attention.
I'm now mapping my reading ahead for the rest of June. There's plenty waiting on the shelves - a good reason not to keep falling asleep all the time.