I think there was a time when I didn't know when Chinese New Year happened, but its long passed now. If the students don't remind me, my friends do, or the neighbours sing songs in the back of their yard.
I've been reading Thomas Lynch's collection, Apparition and Late Fictions over the last few days. It's a slim book, with only five stories in it (the final one being a large novella), and I have to say, I'm enjoying it so far. Undertaking remains one of my favourite books, and I reckon I must have talked about it here more than enough, but while I've liked Lynch's other books, Bodies in Rest and Motion and Booking Passage didn't grab me as much as that first one did. Good stuff, but at times a little too Catholic and a little too Irish for my tastes. But the collection, at least at this early part, is much more akin to Undertaking than any of the other books, with the stories so far being meditations on loss and violence. Also, I'm not quite sure I realised how much went into fishing. This is possibly because the only time I ever fished was when I was a kid, and my old man and his friend took me and his kid out into a lake on a tiny, metal boat, and sat us in the sun with reels while they fished.
We caught nothing.
Check out the book though, I reckon.