I finished The Sun also Rises today, outside amidst shade, breeze, and goldfinches. Typical Hemingway style, making me want to go to Europe but feeling horrible at my life full of relative happiness. I don't have problems with bankruptcy and PTSD, after all. I enjoyed it, especially the section in Spain, and appreciated the descriptions.
I also went for a jog today, running around the block for 15 minutes; I would have gone longer, but I live on a hill. A big hill. And jogged to another hill. Which means I felt like I had emphysema 5 minutes into it. Shall I continue to jog this summer? Only my resolve can tell.
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