good tired Saturday

Longish day, but life feels purposeful and rich. Started The Road by Cormac McCarthy, so bleak, yet the man's love for his son glimmers through the ash coating everything after some yet-undescribed catastrophe, I guess nuclear annihilation. After reading The Pesthouse by Jim Crace, I'm not sure if I can slog through this one, but it is oddly compelling. Still wrapping up Suite Francaise, amazing book that. Finished reading The Hundred Dresses to the kids tonight, that book gives me a lump in my throat every time. I don't think Sophie totally got it, but the boys did. So that's it for tonight, no personal insights to be had due to fatigue. Next time I will give a description of life right now, more for my own record/posterity than for anyone else...who would want to read it anyway? Oh, one last thing, two actually: this morning Sophie told Joe that she was going to be a scuba diver when she grows up. They talked about it for a few minutes, then she added casually, "But only in the bathtub, just to be safe." Then tonight, I was lying down with her and she looked at me and said, "You are a beautiful girl." The one I clash with the most...