Today I am in Ulysses, and even though I'm not far in...I'm deep in.

I'm done with the first little section, having slogged through some of it three times, some just twice.
I can't just trounce through to the end, because I have to look intelligent about it at book-club in two weeks. This section is mine to present.

Actually, Josh, after hearing all you know of Joyce last Sunday, you're the better one to lead book-club if you're interested.

I can see that it is exquisitely written with no word wasted, but
Ulysses is so jam packed with symbolism and connections to other great literary work, I am almost missing the story because of my gnawing paranoia that I'm missing references to Shakespeare and Homer, or somebody else I haven't even thought of yet.

I finished Midnight's Children over the weekend and it was much more fun than Ulysses, it is my favorite of Rushdie's books that I've read.

As for running, I have run five out of the past six days and my shins are complaining. Today I'm off. April and I are looking for a Saturday half marathon, if anybody knows of one this side of the border. Canada seems to prefer to compete on Sundays.

Otherwise, I am reading whatever I can find on the economy of Iceland. I've paid quite a wad of cash to Iceland Air for nine Christmas tickets to Oslo...and now I see their economy is collapsing. Bad news for everyone.
These are strange times.

If we don't go to Norway, I'm going to spend Christmas getting a big cheating jump-start on the 100 books.