New Tread on an Aging Jalopy

It started on the last day of 2009, when my foot doctor split open the big toe on my right foot like a sausage being readied for the grill. He pulled out enough surplus bone and other junk to fill a shot glass, as he put it. Then he sewed me up and I spent the next two weeks hobbling around on one of those big sandal things, which was a great excuse to park in handicapped spaces, avoid shoveling snow, and spend hours in the sun room with my foot on the table, reading, dozing off, and reading some more. I finished Edgar Sawtelle (David Wroblewski) and Kill the Devil (T.K. Marion), and I'm well into The Russian Concubine (Kate Furnivall) and started on Winter's Tale (Mark Helprin). It's been a while since I've felt relaxed enough for such a glut of reading, but now it may become a habit again. I might even resume work on my stalled second novel. The doctor removed the stitches from my foot this morning, and it's good to be wearing shoes on both feet again. But it will also be good to keep putting that foot on the table and plunging into that grand old-fashioned pastime of liberating the spirit by way of the well-written word.