Already it was deep summer on roadhouse roofs

Alright kids, it’s been awhile since I’ve done a Word Wednesday and since I skipped out on the Top Ten yesterday to go watch Zoolander in the park I figured I owe you one. This month marks one full year of writing Tuesday Top Tens and I’m having a hard time deciding if I want to keep doing them. Do you still like reading them or is it time to move on to greener pastures? I’ve been retreating from the internet and social media a bit this summer and I feel like the more time I spend focused on the real world and the people in it the more content I feel. Something to mull over while we’re all having a sunny beer on the patio. Less blogs and more…books?!

I started a new job on Tuesday (!!!) and one of my resolutions for this job is to take my full lunch break away from my computer to read. I’ve always been one of those eat-at-your-desk type people. No more! This old battered copy of The Great Gatsby has been sitting on my bookshelf waiting to be read for at least two years now. Since the movie is coming out in a few months and since Michelle read it a few weeks ago, I decided this was a good lunchtime book to start with. Bonus: it is a good purse size. I have a feeling this is going to be a great read for the next couple of days which are supposed to be hot and sunny and summery.

“Already it was deep summer on roadhouse roofs and in front of wayside garages, where new red gas-pumps sat out in pools of light, and when I reached my estate at West Egg I ran the car under its shed and sat for a while on an abandoned grass roller in the yard. The wind had blown off, leaving a loud, bright night, with wings beating in the trees and a persistent organ sound as the full bellows of the earth blew the frogs full of life. The silhouette of a moving cat wavered across the moonlight, and turning my head to watch it, I saw that I was not alone—fifty feet away a figure had emerged from the shadow of my neighbor’s mansion and was standing with his hands in his pockets regarding the silver pepper of the stars. Something in his leisurely movements and the secure position of his feet upon the lawn suggested that it was Mr. Gatsby himself, come out to determine what share was his of our local heavens.”