I read nooks, it's what I do. Actually I'm a writer but have long periods of writer's block when all I can do from the moment I wake up is read others' indie novels. At the moment there are six. Don't know how I got signed up for all six when my plate is obviously full, but I did.

First one, guy's kind of like me, makes great pop-art covers but the writing isn't pointed, doesn't have clear story lines. In this one he's falling into whiskey. He starts noticing flavors and taking tours in the distilleries and his wife apparently drives him around to go visit them, when you can always get a free sip or two as long as you can get there. Autobiographical! Buut it's good to know what a fellow author is sinking into.

Around here it quickly rises to over ninety and I don't feel like working on the garden, or the yard, or the garage, or even going anywhere though there are many things to do. Kids need rides, one our foster-son's girlfriend needs to get to work. Ninety-two? I stay in my chair, puppy on lap, air-con blasting, try to stay calm and breathe. Yes I'll do it. On my way now...(more later)