This morning was one of those days where wakefulness was like a slap in the face. The feeling of loneliness after being jettisoned from dreaming was so intense, so palpable in the way it bore slamming down on my body, as if it was sprawled in the armchair with a jeering grin.

 All systems red by Martha Wells. 7.5/10. A very enjoyable, light read of a novella.

 Snowcrash, Neal Stephenson. 6/10, if I were a grading person.  I'm past the target teen/YA demographic and reality, for better or worse, overtook most of the ideas in the book making them feel dated dated. The one thing of interest, the language virus takes a back-seat to pandering action and violence. Still, that's off the list.

Woke up from a dream about caseotypes, i.e. photographs made on slices of cheese using different cultures of bacteria inducing chemical reactions in the cheese and in effect staining it a given color, depending on the wavelength of light.

  稲荷大神. I saw two of your red messengers today. Or was it the same one, only the second time with prey in its maw?

Sadly it turned out too bitter for my taste.

I never got around to buying the 2020 Hobonichi Weeks. Perhaps with good reason. When I convinced myself I want one, it was June and the store, that carried it didn't ship here because of Covid. Still a bit of a shame, the Tokyo tower design was beautiful.