AKICIDW: Ear training

Jul. 6th, 2025 10:19 am
brithistorian: (Default)
[personal profile] brithistorian

I do not have perfect pitch. Not only do I not have good absolute pitch (i.e. "That's a C#."), I don't really have good relative pitch (i.e. "This note is higher than that note."). Which makes it kind of funny, how much I enjoy music, both listening and playing. So that's why I've come here to borrow your ears. In "Stupid in Love" by Max and Huh Yunjin, at around 2:19 when they sing "Book a flight to Paris only one way," am I correct in thinking that he's singing a higher note than her? It sounded that way to me when I was listening to it in the car yesterday, then I started second-guessing myself, thinking it might be an illusion because he was singing in the upper part of his range while she was singing in the lower part of hers. Then I tried listening to it under headphone this morning and I started thinking that maybe they were singing the same note, and now I can't even hear it properly. And so I've come here to borrow your ears. Any thoughts?

umadoshi: (berries in bowls (roxicons))
[personal profile] umadoshi
[personal profile] scruloose and I did make it to the little farmers' market down the road for its opening day of the season, and even managed to get there earlier than later! (I think it's open from 8 to 1, and we probably were there...a bit after 10?)

We made it home with two quarts of strawberries and one of cherries, new potatoes, a dozen eggs, and boneless chicken thighs, plus a bee balm for the garden, which we quickly tucked into a fairly open space in our little garden bed yesterday evening. (What was there before? UNKNOWN. Will I manage to reconstruct it from old posts or something? Also unknown. But hey, a plant!)

Reading: I finished Everything for Everyone: An Oral History of the New York Commune, 2052–2072 (M.E. O'Brien and Eman Abdelhadi), which was fantastic. On the fiction front, I followed it up with Tamsyn Muir's novella Princess Floralinda and the Forty-Flight Tower (not really my thing--I continue to rarely bond with novellas, I guess--but interestingly done), Sacha Lamb's When the Angels Left the Old Country (marvelous), and Sofia Samatar's The Practice, the Horizon, and the Chain (again, didn't really bond emotionally, but it executed what it was doing beautifully).

Non-fiction: David Chang and Priya Krishna's Cooking at Home: Or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying About Recipes (And Love My Microwave), which is, like...primarily actually a David Chang book that Priya Krishna did a ton of heavy-lifting assisting on (which may be very normal for co-written cookbooks, but in this case she was interjecting and clarifying in her own voice as well as doing a fair bit of the actual writing in his voice, and it was all very transparent that it was being done that way, but also a little odd to read). I think I bought this as a sale ebook before hearing that Chang (the Momofuku guy) is something of an asshole, but then when I was reading it, it felt really promising as a book that might be genuinely useful for me (and even by cookbook standards, its ebook is terribly formatted), so I was pleasantly surprised to readily find a used half-price hard copy available on line, which is winging its way to me now. I've also made sure that Krishna's own Indian-Ish: Recipes and Antics from a Modern American Family is now on the wishlist where I keep an eye out for ebook sales.

And now I'm reading An Everlasting Meal: Cooking with Economy and Grace by Tamar Adler, which is a cookbook mostly in the form of essays on cooking as a thoughtful/mindful practice.

Watching: One more Murderbot episode to go in this season, and oh, I hope we get a second one. I'm going to miss this little show.

We finished watching the second season of Kingdom (the historical zombies k-drama), which I found very satisfying. The ending very much sets up a subsequent season, and there's a movie out that fills in the backstory of the person/people we glimpse at the end of season 2 who would presumably be extremely central in any further season, but I don't think we feel inspired to watch said backstory movie unless a third season of the show is ever announced and it becomes relevant in that way.
creepy_shetan: two shots of Cillian Murphy taken in 2007, one of him looking through the viewfinder of an old film camera, one of him with the camera down (Cillian Murphy // memories & photographs)
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[a href="http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/449155.html?thread=70682755#t70682755">MCU, Tony Stark/Pepper Potts, She's wearing daisy dukes and one of his button-down shirts.[/a]
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RFK Jr.’s Autism Time Machine

Jul. 6th, 2025 07:00 am
[syndicated profile] theatlantic_health_feed

Posted by Caren Zucker

The annual meeting of the International Society for Autism Research is the closest autism science gets to having an Oscars moment of its own. When 2,200 experts from more than 50 countries meet up in one place—as they did this spring in Seattle—a kind of brainy excitement pervades, not just because of the awards given out (yes, awards are given out) or the chance for up-and-comers to network with top names in autism research, but also because there’s always something to celebrate in the science itself. For two decades, studies presented at INSAR have shaped the world’s understanding of autism. The buzz at the conference comes from the conviction that the work matters and that progress continues, sustained by an optimism that no nonscientist could undo.

With one possible exception: U.S. Secretary of Health and Human Services Robert F. Kennedy Jr.

In April, shortly before the conference, Kennedy announced a major research undertaking. He promised that his agency would determine the cause of autism—or, at least, have “some of the answers”—by September. (He soon extended the timeline into next year.) The effort, he pledged, would employ “the most credible scientists from all over the world.”

Now here those scientists were, all in one place. But none of those we spoke with had received the call to help, nor did they expect to. In speeches and interviews as health secretary, Kennedy has made clear his disdain for mainstream autism research, brushing aside the insights gained for this tremendously complex condition through years of research. Instead, backed by the enormous power of his federal office, Kennedy now appears determined to pursue his own long-held set of theories about autism: first, that we are in the midst of an autism epidemic (which is, in fact, highly debatable); second, that autism is caused by one or more “environmental toxins” (which incorrectly suggests that environmental factors have not been explored); and third, that powerful interests want this information covered up (a conspiracy-esque viewpoint that lacks evidence).

“The way the secretary characterizes autism research,” David Amaral, the research director at the MIND Institute at UC Davis and one of INSAR’s co-founders, told us, “it’s as if nobody’s been doing anything for the last 30 years.” Amaral was one of more than a dozen veteran researchers we met with over the four-day conference, whose faces all went dark anytime we asked about the impact of Kennedy’s muscling into their domain. They have been witnessing the health secretary bend the narrative of autism science in America. Their shared assessment: What he’s doing is not good.


The problem begins, in the researchers’ view, with Kennedy’s grasp of the science, which they say he either doesn’t understand or refuses to acknowledge. For instance, Kennedy has complained that too much money has been spent studying genetic causes of autism, describing this avenue as “a dead end.” Between sessions at the conference, the geneticist Joseph Buxbaum sat with us in an empty meeting room and sketched out on a piece of cardboard the numbers and timeline that demonstrate all that’s wrong with this viewpoint. Autism’s genetic underpinnings were first uncovered through studies of twins in the 1970s. Access to the human genome has now revealed that about 80 percent of the odds of being autistic are rooted in heritability. At INSAR this year, one of the most optimistic presentations focused on the progress being made toward genetics-based treatments. “It is shocking,” Buxbaum said of Kennedy’s apparent disregard for experts’ input.   

Compounding the situation are the Trump administration’s blitz of DEI-focused executive orders and DOGE cuts, which are undermining autism research. The Autism Science Foundation has been circulating a questionnaire asking researchers to report funding lost this year. Dozens of responses have been received, so far adding up to more than $80 million worth of halted research and pending grants that now will not come through. Jobs have been lost. Future discoveries have been postponed, possibly for good.

Emily Hilliard, a spokesperson for HHS, told us in an email that Kennedy’s team is “fully committed to leaving no stone unturned in confronting this catastrophic epidemic—employing only gold-standard, evidence-based science.” It’s unclear just whom Kennedy is relying on for scientific expertise; Hilliard did not address a request for more information about the scientists involved in the health secretary’s initiatives. But Kennedy’s singular view on the actual expert consensus seems driven by a personal goal: to implicate vaccines as the cause of autism. He now has reshuffled the ranks of the CDC’s vaccine-advisory committee to include scientists who lack expertise on vaccines and have shared anti-vaccine views, and he has reportedly appointed the son and frequent collaborator of an anti-vaccine activist—one who long promoted false ties between vaccines and autism—to begin examining federal databases for evidence of such a link.

Kennedy has long been a prominent advocate of this false conviction. A quarter century ago, the now-discredited British researcher Andrew Wakefield claimed to have discovered a temporal association between administration of the MMR (measles, mumps, rubella) vaccine and the onset of autistic symptoms in young children. Thus began a self-perpetuating cycle. The greater the number of parents who decided to refuse the MMR vaccine, the more the news media saw a valid trend story. Only four months after Wakefield published in The Lancet, MMR vaccinations had dropped almost 14 percent in South Wales. The fear soon crossed the Atlantic, and Kennedy himself brought further mainstream attention to the issue in “Deadly Immunity,” a 2005 article for Rolling Stone and Salon. (Both publications later retracted the story.) Books were written about the supposed danger. Documentaries were made. Protests were held.

It’s hard to remember now, but up until that time, most people had never heard of autism. Almost overnight, parents everywhere became scared of the word, and scared of what a doctor’s needle might mean for their child. This fear had obvious downsides—the stigmatization of autistic people as being “damaged,” a drop in vaccine uptake broadly, a loss of faith in science, and a sense that something dangerous had been let loose upon the population and especially children. But something constructive came from all the attention to the issue as well. Parent activists jumped on it to pressure Congress to start funding autism research. The money began flowing in earnest in 2006, with a five-year $945 million allocation, and has since reached a total so far of roughly $5 billion, funding university labs and research centers around the U.S. The investment paid off: Autism became better understood. The vaccine question was a top priority out of the gate, and epidemiological research found repeatedly, exhaustively, and emphatically that vaccines do not cause autism.

Clearly, however, RFK Jr. is not satisfied.


When Kennedy speaks today about autism, it’s as though the past 20 years never happened. It’s not just about the canard that is being resuscitated. It’s the language he uses to talk about what he thinks being autistic means. At a press conference in April, he set off a firestorm in autism communities when he described children with autism as “kids who will never pay taxes. They’ll never hold a job; they’ll never play baseball; they’ll never write a poem; they’ll never go out on a date. Many of them will never use a toilet unassisted.”

Tragedy framing, sorrow inducing—this echoes the 20th-century take on autism, when people with the diagnosis were too often treated as not fully human. Many were subjected to abuse and isolation (often by being institutionalized). After Kennedy received some blowback for his comments, he clarified that he was talking specifically about children on the severest end of the spectrum. Hilliard, the HHS spokesperson, told us that Kennedy “remains committed to working toward a society where people with autism have access to meaningful opportunities, appropriate supports and the full respect and recognition they deserve.” She said his statements aimed to emphasize “the need for increased research into environmental factors contributing to the rise in autism diagnoses, not to stigmatize individuals with autism or their families.”

Nevertheless, the damage was done. Regardless of his intention, the ways Kennedy speaks about autism seem to miss how, for many, the prevailing narrative has moved on to more human framing, in which autism is not a disease or a tragedy but a difference meriting acceptance and support. His bleak terminology—autism is “a disease”; it “destroys families”; “we need to put an end to it”—has left a mark. Amy Gravino, who is autistic and specializes in sexuality and relationship coaching, told us she felt shattered by Kennedy’s comments. “For the last 20 years, we as a community have fought against the rhetoric that RFK is now spouting,” she said. “Everything we have tried to do to humanize autistic people has been potentially wiped away in one fell swoop.”

Many parents, too, took offense at RFK’s flattened portrait of their autistic children as a collection of problems and nothing more. The depiction leaves out everything about these children’s worth as people: their capacity for joy, love, and creativity; their inherent dignity. “If the world uses a lens that is only based on deficits and struggle rather than the complexity and nuance that is a part of any human being, including and especially autistic people, that makes true belonging really hard,” Sara Swoboda, a pediatrician in Boise, Idaho, whose daughter has an autism diagnosis, told us over email.

At the INSAR conference, a pediatrician alerted us to concerns spreading among parents about Kennedy’s plans to create a “data platform” for autism. So far, the National Institutes of Health, the agency overseeing the platform, has outlined this project only vaguely, including that it would involve scraping data from all over the digital landscape—from Medicaid claims, private-sector health records, pharmacy chains, insurance billings, and even smartwatches and fitness trackers. It has not gone over well. The pediatrician shared some of the texts she has been getting from contacts around the country reporting that parents of autistic children were calling their health-care providers and pleading with them to scrub references to autism from their kids’ medical records. Other parents waiting for assessments for autism were calling in to cancel.

When we contacted nearly a dozen doctors and advocates about this matter, they confirmed getting similar requests from parents in their practices and communities. “People are freaking out, and I don’t blame them,” Alycia Halladay, the chief science officer for the Autism Science Foundation, told us. “For the government to come in with no transparency and say we have the authority to take this data, that is scary to people.” They’re scared of lost privacy, of seeing their kids stigmatized, of consequences related to insurance and job discrimination. But in a bigger sense, they don’t want their kids marked, and scared of a comeback for those old attitudes about autism.  

Data collection in itself need not be a source of panic. It is, after all, the currency of epidemiology. It’s how the vaccine theory was debunked and how the CDC determines prevalence rates. Usually, methods are put in place to ensure anonymity and ethical disbursement of the data. Hilliard told us that “all NIH-managed databases follow the highest standards of security and privacy, with the protection of personal health information as a top priority.” Even if there’s nothing to fear about this new database, however, good results in science depend on trust. That trust now appears to be at risk.


Not everyone thinks Kennedy is getting every part of the story wrong. His clumsily calibrated messaging, though offensive to many, was appreciated by some families who feel seen by the secretary for addressing a segment of the autistic population that still gets minimal attention. These are people whose challenges range from moderate to severe and who, as Kennedy acknowledges, will never achieve real independence. The most challenged—assessed at roughly 27 percent of the autistic population in a 2023 study—are people with IQs below 50 or whose ability in the use of spoken language is minimal to none. Some in this group can also be violent toward themselves, and their inability to understand danger has resulted in their deaths with shocking frequency. They are people who require round-the-clock supervision,

Especially for the families of such individuals, there is a deep frustration that most people no longer associate autism with individuals like their kids. Theirs is not the popular autism story. They get little interest from Hollywood, which best likes narratives about autistic people as fundamentally quirky or brilliant. Science hasn’t shown much interest either, especially social science, whose practitioners find it easier to study people who can hold a conversation and complete a questionnaire. Additionally, parents who risk sharing details of the struggles at home can end up feeling like they’ve violated some sort of taboo, facing social-media pile-ons in which they’re accused of dehumanizing their children by being explicit about autism’s downsides.

Kennedy was explicit about the downsides. In response, Amy Lutz, a medical historian and the vice president of the National Council on Severe Autism, wrote an article titled “RFK Was Right: Severe Autism Can Be Devastating.” Lutz is the mother of an adult autistic man. She argues that Kennedy definitely gets a lot wrong about autism (for example, vaccines), but at least he is “shining a light on the segment of the autism spectrum that has been increasingly marginalized by a focus on the most capable.”

During our last full day at INSAR, we attended a luncheon sponsored by an advocacy organization called Profound Autism Alliance. Seated around three long tables was a group of psychiatrists, psychologists, pediatricians, and educators all involved in serving the marginalized 27 percent. That morning, they had witnessed a milestone in their field: A presentation at the conference had called for formal recognition and definition of profound autism as a new diagnostic category. (How widely this framing will gain acceptance remains to be seen.) Kennedy had no involvement in the presentation, but we asked the group about the health secretary’s role in bringing attention to the profoundly autistic. There was, at best, some grudging acknowledgment that he had done so. But the researchers—whom we agreed not to name so they could speak without fear of professional repercussions—were much more concerned about the harm they feared Kennedy is doing, and will do, by parachuting, uninvited, into their realm. The risk, they said, is not just the harm to science, or potentially to their own work or the careers of those just starting out who may now choose something “not autism” to work on. All of that, they told us, is secondary to the potential harm to autistic people and to those who know and love them.

If faulty science takes charge and finds a cause that isn’t a cause—such as vaccines—it will imply that the easy next step is finding the antidote to the cause. That is a seriously problematic proposition. For one thing, many diagnosed people say they have no interest in becoming unautistic. For another, a one-and-done remedy for the condition’s most debilitating manifestations is, quite simply, a phantom goal. As anyone who has seriously studied autism will tell you, the condition is too complex. As one pediatric neurologist at the profound-autism luncheon put it, “If I had that magic pill, don’t you think I would give it to you?” There is no magic in science, which is why so many researchers think Kennedy’s approach is an exercise in false hope. One thing the neurologist knows after years of treating children herself, she told us, is “there’s nothing worse for a family than to be given false hope.”

selections from the reading life

Jul. 5th, 2025 05:39 pm
ladyherenya: (reading)
[personal profile] ladyherenya
Today was sunny with a cold breeze, making the number on the thermometer deceptively optimistic.

(I paused here to look up why the standard spelling is thermometer and not thermometre, and I learnt: a metre is a unit of length and a meter is a device that measures and records the quantity, degree, or rate of something. Right. Obviously. This seems like something I should have realised before now. Hence perimeter, diameter, multimeter, etc.

Et cetera rhymes with meter in a non-rhotic accent. (I am interested in spelling patterns and how accents affect our perceptions of spelling rules, because this is relevant to my job.))

But today was still warm in the sunshine. I sat outside reading The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue. (I haven’t read enough to feel hooked but I can see why my cousin recommended it. The prose is lovely.) When the sun moved behind the trees and my hands became cold, I took my dogs for a longer walk than usual because I wanted to see – and hear – the water birds. (I saw swamphens, mostly.)

I came home and made myself childhood comfort food (peanut butter on toast, and cheese toast) and a cup of tea. I’m sitting in the recliner chair that once belonged to my grandmother, and my great-grandmother before her. I watched as the setting sun lit up the nearby hills and now I’m watching as the last of the pink fades from the sky.

Bottle this feeling.



Part of the reason my current location seems like a better place to write than my desk does is likely because part of my desk is covered with books that I’ve bought this year but have yet to find shelf space for.

There’s also a book I took down from a top shelf (which I can’t reach without standing on a chair) to reread and I have neither reread it nor put it back. And I think there’s a colouring book…



The Season of Dragons by Tansy Rayner Roberts: This retelling of Pride and Prejudice set in a world in which patrons are actually dragons, and society is divided into hoarders, who care for dragons and their hoards, and dragon hunters.

The Iverwold family’s dragon has remained in hibernation for many seasons, leaving the family without her patronage and guidance. Dimity Ivorwold worries that this leaves her brother Chambrey vulnerable to making unwise decisions, like hiring a house in the country or falling in love with a pretty daughter from a hunter family.

I wasn’t certain how much I would like this – I have enjoyed other books by Roberts’ (like her Teacup Magic series) but Austen’s Caroline Bingley is not a character I particularly want to spend more time with. However, I liked Dimity, and I found I enjoyed not knowing how closely the story was going to follow the events of P&P – and not being entirely sure who was going to end up with whom!

The Season of Dragons was entertaining and it became all the more so as the story progressed and dragons played a bigger role in events. ‘I was going to miss it all. My foolish twin had got it into his head that being a Gentlemen of Significance with full access to his money meant THIS was the occasion to hire himself a country house in the middle of nowhere and ruin my life.’ )



A Study in Drowning by Ava Reid: By the time I noticed that this book was now available on Libby and I put it on hold, I could no longer remember why it had been on my list of books I was interested in reading.

I really enjoyed going into this story without knowing anything about it. It begins with Effy Sayre, a first-year student who is studying architecture because the literature college won’t accept women. She sees a notice soliciting designs for a manor home intended to house the library and the family of her favourite author, the late Emrys Myrddin. I liked wondering what sort of territory this was heading into… Fairytale territory? Arthurian mythology? Gothic Jane Eyre? Would it become a fantasy or would the fantasy be limited to the stories Effy loves?

I stayed up reading into the early hours of the morning, because I could not put this down. I loved how this is a story about stories. I loved the epigraphs taken from Myrddin’s work and from academic essays about it. (This reminded me a bit of Possession.) I loved the prose. I loved how the book evoked a strong sense of place, and built a compellingly-tense atmosphere. I empathised with Effy, with her love of books and her anxieties.

I didn’t have the sense to read this until two days before it was due back at the library, so I couldn’t immediately reread it like I wanted to. But I bought a copy this week and it’s now one of the books sitting on my desk. ) One of the reasons I’ve kept thinking about this story is because the weekend I read it, I discovered Taylor Swift’s “Lavender Haze - Acoustic Version”. I don’t think I actually listened to the song while I was reading A Study in Drowning but I did listen to the song many times that weekend, and my memory linked the two together.

Whenever I’ve listened to the song since then – apparently it’s my most-listened to track of the past 90 days – it has evoked memories of this book. It is possible I have listened to the song all the more because it has evoked memories of this book.



Lady of Weeds by W.R. Gingell: This is another book I went into knowing almost nothing about it, and I really enjoyed that reading experience. All I knew was that it was connected to Lady of Dreams but set in a different country. (If I had read Lady of Dreams more recently, I might have realised the connections between the two stories faster, but I don’t think it mattered that I didn’t.)

As a guardian it is Carys’ job to protect the village by clearing seaweed from the shoreline every morning, to prevent it falling into the hands of dangerous selkies, and she is entitled to take anything she finds washed ashore. One morning, she finds an unconscious, injured young man in a rock pool.

I liked the descriptions of Carys’ life by the sea. I liked the mysteries, of which there are several tangled together – Who is Eurion and what happened to him? Why does Carys care about the ring she found with him? And what is Carys’ history? – and how they unfolded. I liked how Eurion, so sunny and effervescent, is such a contrast to Carys. And I liked how Carys’ words and thoughts can make her seem cold but, over time, her actions reveal a softer, warmer side. ‘Carys was used to the dark and the cold, just as she was used to the loneliness. She’d become so used to them, in fact, that now she merely thought of them as everyday life and no longer thought of them by their names.’ )



The Naturalist Society by Carrie Vaughn: I impulsively bought this back in February because it was on sale and and it sounded like it might be interesting. And I’d liked two of Vaughn’s historical novellas. By the time I opened up The Naturalist Society, I couldn’t remember any specific details about it.

It is a fantasy set in the 1880s, mostly in New York, in a world in which knowledge about the natural world is valued, because those who practise Arcane Taxonomy can use this knowledge to do what could – and, in another book, would – be called magic.

As women are not allowed to join the Naturalist Society, Beth Stanley has been publishing her essays under her husband’s name, but Harry’s death cuts her off from this outlet for her work. When two of Harry’s friends, the explorer couple Bran West and Anton Torrance, visit Beth, hoping to find something in Harry’s study that could help with their next expedition, they discover Beth’s secret.
This is a story about Arcane Taxonomy and ornithology and polar explorers, but I thought it was most compelling as a story about grief. )



Kiki’s Delivery Service (1989): This isn’t a book but I feel like I should write about it here anyway, for thematic reasons.

People have recommended this film to me, but I didn’t get around to watching it until a couple of weeks ago. For the third week in a row, it felt like work had dominated my weekend (I’d decided that this was the best way for me to meet deadlines), and I just wanted to curl up on the couch with my dogs and watch something soothing and aesthetically pleasing.

I didn’t know what Kiki’s Delivery Service was actually about, beyond the clues given by the title, but I suspected it would fit the bill. And it did!

I wonder if I would have liked it even more if Kiki had been at least a year or two older – a thirteen year old leaving home to live alone is, if one thinks about it, quite an unsettling prospect – but then again, maybe that is actually part of what makes the film soothing? Because Kiki is young and vulnerable, but she’s able to find her place in the world without anything too terrible happening to her. Maybe that’s as much the fantasy as her broomstick and her telepathic connection to her cat.

I know, I should prioritise watching more Studio Ghibli films. (I have now seen *counts* five.)
ladyherenya: (icon)
[personal profile] ladyherenya
I have spent most of the day sitting in the lounge room so I could watch the rain. It is most convenient of the weather to finally rain properly on a day when I was not planning on going anywhere.

I won’t know how much rain we’ve had until someone ventures out to check our rain gauge. I’ve looked up the two closest weather stations; one seems to have recorded too little to match the constant downpour I’ve observed but I don’t want to get my hopes up that we’ve instead had as much as the other station. Usually we don’t.

Things I worry about in the winter of 2025 – whether we’re getting enough rain.



I am currently on track to read the fewest books that I’ve ever read in a year.

At first I did not let this bother me.

There are a lot of good reasons for not caring about the number of books one reads in a year, at least not – or especially not? – when one is still reading considerably more than the “average person reads one book per month” statistic. One’s self-worth, and even one’s identity as a reader, are not tied to the number of books one reads. The quality of one’s reading experiences is more important than the quantity.

And the quality of one’s non-reading experiences is more important than the quantity of books one reads.

The April holidays, for instance. Those holidays in 2023 were memorable because I read nearly a book a day: 13 novels and 3 novellas, plus I had an audiobook I was in the middle of; possibly I reread some books as well.
Last year that fortnight was probably more typical: 6 novels, plus I finished one audiobook and nearly finished another, and I know I reread at least 3 books.

In contrast, this year I read – wait for it – 2 novels. I also finished an audiobook and started another.

But I have some good memories from the holidays:
• One of my cousins came to stay. She and I went on some lovely walks, and hunted around secondhand shops and wandered through bookshops, and swapped recommendations.
• I spent more time with my grandmother and discovered that one of her weekday carers is someone I knew in high school (we weren’t in the same year level but we went on the same overseas trip!).
• I watched two or three things I’d been meaning to see.
• I went to a handful of sessions at an Easter convention, because one of the guest speakers was so interesting and encouraging, and on two different occasions, I ran into a former colleague – one I’d worked with closely and the other I’d only ever spoken to in passing, but I had a good chat to both of them.

So when I went back to work, I didn’t feel any need to regret the amount of time I had, or hadn’t, spent reading.

But that was just two weeks out of 26.

Work has taken up more of my time. I’ve spent more time working (nearly 60 hours more than the first half of last year), and more time talking about, and thinking about, work, which is far harder to quantify.

I suspect that the chief reason I’ve been reading less is because of work. )

In the last few weeks, that smaller-than-average number of books that I’ve read this year has begun to really bother me.

I don’t know if what I want is the sense of accomplishment that adding books to my reading record gives me. Or is what I’m missing is the emotional experience of reading – the enjoyment of a good story, and the distraction from thinking too much about my problems.

All of the above, probably.



I am going to try to prioritise reading more.



I have been finishing setting up my new phone. Most parts of the process have been easier than I was expecting, and other parts have proved to be more complicated. (My previous phones all had SD card slots so I’ve always stored files on an SD card, leaving me naively and blissfully ignorant of how files transferred directly to the phone have their date modified metadata overwritten with the date they were copied. This is not behaviour I am happy about. (Also, what do you mean, my calendar app will only sync events from the past year???))

It’s been a while since I last went through this process, not since right before the pandemic began – which certainly feels like an age ago. In more ways than one.

But I have also just opened a soon-due-back-so-I-better-read-it library book – one my cousin recommended – and been startled to notice that its publication date – 2020. I knew this book had been around for a couple of years but my impression was that it wasn’t that old!

I have realised that I could keep my old phone beside my bed to use for books and music. In this location, its reduced battery life wouldn’t matter. I could turn off work notifications, maybe even log out of some things altogether. I could take off its bulky case, which has been very convenient when out-and-about but less so when reading in bed.

And overnight my new phone could live… elsewhere!

I have been unwilling to embrace the oft-repeated advice of not keeping one’s phone beside one’s bed. )

Honestly, I’m not sure what delights me more. Having a shiny new phone, or having a new purpose for my old phone.

PS…

Jul. 6th, 2025 12:09 am
[syndicated profile] post_secret_feed

Posted by Frank

Dear Frank-

My wife found my PostSecret that you put up this Sunday and I was a little scared. She cried and told me it was the sweetest thing she has ever been a part of.

I sent it before we got married.

The young woman I speak of on the cards and I celebrated our 7th wedding anniversary last October and have an amazing 4-year-old that completes our beautiful family.

PS. . . I’m no longer scared that she knows all my secrets.

The post PS… appeared first on PostSecret.

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