"Jeeves smiled paternally. Or, rather, he had a kind of paternal muscular spasm about the mouth, which is the nearest he ever gets to smiling." -from Carry On, Jeeves, by P. G. WodehouseAh, this was the perfect antidote to yesterday's slog. This was a book of ten stories about Wooster and Jeeves by the king of comic writers, P. G. Wodehouse. By the last few pages of the first story, Jeeves had extricated Wooster from an engagement to a young lady intent on improving the tone of Wooster's mind. Jeeves somberly told his master, ". . . it was [the young lady's] intention to start you almost immediately upon Nietzsche. You would not enjoy Nietzsche, sir. He is fundamentally unsound."
And that was the point at which, for me, "the sun shone in through the window; birds twittered in the tree-tops; and, generally speaking, hope dawned once more." I settled down for an enjoyable time, and an enjoyable time is exactly what I had.
peace of Christ to you,